When Worlds Collide
by the little ghost
Summary: Clary has been chosen to attend a special academy to hone her skills. She just so happens to meet Jace there, and a story (hint hint hiiiiint) ensues. Of course, this school isn't everything it appears to be. May change the rating as it progresses. Clace, Malec, Sizzy
1. Arrival

**First - I do not own these characters, I owe them to Cassandra Clare**

**Second - I got this story off another writer ( candycop99) who is writing the same story, but this is just my version of it. I swear I take no credit as to how the story plays out. I will tell you if I deviate from the main storyline which the author has written. Thank you for understanding.**

Clary

Beep,_ beep, beep_.

"Ugh," I groaned. My hand scrabbled for the alarm clock. I turned off the infernal device, and sat up, rubbing sleep out of my eyes. It took me only a moment to realise what I had read on the screen.

"TEN O'CLOCK?" I yelled, surely waking up the entire neighbourhood.

I threw off the sheets, and scampered around the room. I snatched up some clothing – a light blue jumper and a pair of jeans – and pulled them on. My suitcases sat neatly by the door, and I stacked them up on top of each other to drag them easily down the stairs. I grabbed a piece of toast, kissed my mother Jocelyn on the cheek, and dashed out of the apartment onto the street. I hailed a cab, and, as it drew up, squealed. In and out of the apartment again, and my plane ticket was safely in hand.

"Airport, please," I said to the cabbie. "And fast."

"Can't guarantee anything with this traffic," he drawled.

"Well, can you at least _try_? My flight is in two hours."

"Darling, you are late!"

"Yeah! Now, drive!" He nodded and laughed, and pulled into the late-morning traffic. Bright yellow taxis, humming like bees, streaked past. Shouts and calls echoed around the street. A man in a suit and a street vendor were arguing fiercely. Typical New York, I thought to myself.

As we made our way through the sea of cars, I flicked open my phone. "Simon," I said into the voicemail microphone, "I'm on my way to the airport. Call me." He wouldn't call me, I knew. He would be fast asleep, having stayed up all night watching a programme on his laptop. I would be stuck in a plane all day, so we wouldn't talk until tonight.

As soon as we pulled up at the airport, I threw the correct amount of money at the driver and jumped out. Quickly getting through security, I sprinted to the gate, my rucksack thumping against my back, a jacket slung over my arm, and my passport between my teeth. The woman at the scanning machine smiled sympathetically.

"Clarissa Fray," she said, reading my name off my ticket.

"Clary," I corrected her, catching my breath.

"Well, Clary, have a safe flight."

Once in the airplane, I flopped into my seat and prepared to close my eyes. Next to me, a brown-haired girl with glasses. As the plane took off, we exchanged names (she was called Emma) and small talk. The air hostess passed around drinks and a meagre breakfast.

"Ew," said my neighbour, "this is disgusting."

I laughed, and pushed my fork into the dish. "God, it's like a sponge!"

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the plane's engines, and chewing mouths. "So," she said, "what are you doing in California?"

"I got accepted into a boarding school there."

"That's a bit late into the year, isn't it? November?"

"Yeah, a little … lots of catching up to do!"

The hours dragged on, and I fell asleep. I woke up to a hostess telling us to buckle up again, because we were about to land. Emma and I swapped phone numbers, and parted ways. Passport control, baggage claim, baggage check … all were done with a constant yawn at the back of my mouth. I walked towards the exit, searching for my name in the forest of signs. A tall man in a suit approached me.

"Fray?" he said roughly.

I nodded. He took my bags off me and carried them to a slim black car. I was helped into the back seat and driven away. Almost immediately, we were trapped in traffic. A resigned sigh escaped me; I pulled out my phone to check for messages.

One call from my mother, one text from Emma, and five from my brother, Sebastian. I landed on voicemail with my mother, who must have been sleeping. I wished Emma a good stay, and proceeded to scroll through Sebastian's messages.

Sebastian Fray is my older brother by a year. He's seventeen and currently attends the same school I got into – the School of the Skilled. The talent that bought him a ticket into the academy was computer engineering. Here is the first of our differences. I got accepted because I excel in combat. From Taekwondo to fencing – you name it, I can do it. I could take down a man bigger than me with my eyes closed and my hands behind my back. Somehow, that's a skill that the academy is looking for, and so I was sent a letter of recruitment, to which I accepted. Sebastian and I are often told that we could hardly be related. He likes video games, films, and anything technology-related. I, on the other hand, love to read, draw, and train. The only thing we have in common is our proficiency in sports, and our dry humour. We don't even _look_ the same. He's got white-blond hair, I'm a curly, red mess. His eyes are almost black, mine are emerald green. He's tall, and I'm menacingly minuscule.

_Clary to Sebastian_: Seb – off the plane, on my way to the school.

He answered almost immediately.

_Sebastian to Clary_: OK, I'll show u round campus after u got ur sched and stuff

_Clary to Sebastian_: only if you check your spelling!

_Sebastian to Clary_: I didn't get accepted for my English, did I?

I chuckled.

_Clary to Sebastian_: yeah, there's no way you'd make it as an author.

_Sebastian to Clary_: I am hurt! I am very much hurt! I'll meet you at the entrance.

I looked out of the window as the car drew to a standstill, and gasped. There was no way that was a school! It was six floors high, with whitewashed walls and black slate roofs I was dying to climb onto. There were sprawling grounds behind the main building, whose grass was starting to yellow. I could see smaller houses here and there on the golf-course-like terrain, and students milling around the courtyard the driver had drawn up in.

Suitcase in hand and pride soundly swallowed, I started to force my way through the crowd to the front steps. There, I spotted a familiar shock of blond hair.

"Sebastian!" I called, running up to him for a hug.

"Hey, firecracker," he smiled. "Good to see you. Have you shrunk an inch?"

I punched his shoulder gently. "Nice shirt choice," I mocked.

He picked at cloth, over which was written _you can't spell game without me!_ "I have the best style," he said. "Right, let's get your schedule."

Sebastian led me into the building. The place was even grander within than without, if that was even possible. Marble floors and blue walls, high ceilings with – were those chandeliers? Heavy doors were set into the walls every few feet, leading into numerous classrooms and offices.

"Whoah," I breathed.

He grinned. "I knew you would like it." He steered me through the corridors and into a cosy office with a young woman behind a desk. "Antonia," he said, "can we get my sister checked in?"

She looked up from her computer, and smiled. "Good afternoon, Sebastian. Of course we can. You must be Clarissa," she said to me.

"I prefer Clary," I mumbled.

"All right. Here's your schedule, and a map in case you get lost. You also need your room fob. You're in 114A, which is in the main building. I've got all of your textbooks right here. Classes start at eight o'clock sharp every morning, and end at three. You get weekends and holidays off. I've got you signed on to the main website, so you'll receive the daily announcements in your inbox. I just need you to fill in a short form for me…" and on it went.

Finally, loaded up with school paraphernalia, Sebastian and I left the office. I was then shown around the first four floors of the school. Indoor swimming pools, numerous different classrooms for a variety of skillsets, bathrooms, and a gym (fully equipped with fighting materials, I noticed excitedly), were all I got to see. Outside, I was told, there were the playing fields, an outdoor swimming pool, and a dance hall. The student union was down the road. Apparently, the smaller buildings on the grass were individual dormitories for seniors, teachers, and veterans. My bedroom would be on the top floors of the school's principal complex. Boys were not allowed into the girls' floor, yet girls were allowed on the boys'. That meant that I was left to find it on my own. I bid my brother goodbye, took my bag, and headed into my floor.

_114A_, I told myself. _114A, where are you_?

I was looking over the numbers on the doors, when I collided into a girl coming around the corner. I fell over, and my things skittered across the floor. I began to gather them up, and the girl helped me. She had long, silky black hair, and dark brown eyes. She looked like she had stepped out of the cover of a fashion magazine. She wore a light blue tank top with a black leather jacket, and form-fitting jeans. On her feet were heels so high that they gave me a headache to look at.

"I am _so_ sorry," she babbled, "I'm so clumsy, it's unreal." She stood up – towering over me by six inches, at least – and said, "you're new here, right?" I nodded. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood."

"I'm Clarissa, but call me Clary. Sorry for bumping into you, I wasn't paying attention." I hefted my bag over my shoulder and started away from her.

"Hey, do you need help? You look lost." She smiled, and it was genuine.

"Yeah, I'm looking for my dorm," I said, "114A."

"Oh my God," she squealed, "You're my new roommate! Brilliant!" and she hooked her arm through the straps of my bag, and led me down the corridor.

As I walked into the dormitory I saw that it looked far more like an apartment. The ceiling was slanted, throwing the living space I was looking at into contrast with the wide windows. They let in cold, autumn light. There were plush couches surrounding a low coffee table, and a flat-screen television. In one corner, a kitchen with a small island layered with cabinets. I walked around the place, drinking it in. It looked comfortable, while still keeping a surprisingly classy demeanour. On either side of the kitchen area were two doors – each with a bathroom and a bedroom behind them.

"Right, that's your room," Isabelle said. "I'll let you unpack."

The room was bare, but I could soon fix that. Yet another window pierced the wall, and under it was a desk with drawers. The bed jutted out into the middle of the room, wide enough to accommodate two people. The floor was wooden, but a woolly carpet was spread over it. There was enough cupboard space for an entire family, which was good, because I couldn't pack light if the world was ending.

I unpacked slowly, taking my time. I called my mum, and Simon, both of whom wished me good luck for the next day. There was a cry from the kitchen, and I opened the door to see Isabelle, looking miserable next to a minor explosion at the cooker.

"Let's just get pizza," I suggested, tearing sheets of kitchen paper to wipe up the mess. "Do they deliver into the building?"

"Yes, they do. Let me find the phone number." When the pizza arrived, we settled into the sofas and tucked in. Chatting with Isabelle was surprisingly easy. I was usually shy, and hard to talk to, but she seemed friendly and open.

"Wait," she said through an enormous mouthful, "your name is Clary _Fray_. As in, the sister of _Sebastian Fray_?"

"Yeah, he's my brother. Why?"

"He's only one of the best-looking guys in the whole academy! And he's really intelligent, and funny, and nice," her voice rose, "and you failed to mention that he was your _brother_?"

"Well, you see, I'm not hugely attracted to him, so I didn't make it that huge of a deal," I laughed, watching her face go purple.

"Anything else you forgot to tell me?" she said wickedly, "You're not an international superstar, are you?"

"I wish! No. Well, actually, my special skill is combat. I have an aptitude for beating people into a pulp." I proceeded to outline my range of talents. Her eyes widened.

"Clary, you sound kind of … dare I say it? Badass," she whispered.

I gasped. "You dare not say that word!" and we rolled about, laughing. "Yeah, I'm a total badass. I can knock you senseless without needing to, and club baby seals to death without shedding a single tear."

"OK, let's not exaggerate. But you could, like, go up against someone, and win?" I nodded. Trying to avoid this kind of conversation, I steered towards her own talent. "Oh," she said, "I'm a fashion designer. I make totally fabulous clothing that no one can help but wear." She winked.

"That explains why you can actually walk in heels," I said.

Once we had polished off the crusts, I wished her good night, and went into my room. I finished unpacking, and hopped into the shower. Making sure I rubbed off the hours of plane clinging to my skin, I basked in the hot water.

I looked out of the window, which had a view onto the fields, and clambered into bed. I fell asleep fearing the next day.


	2. The Golden One

**The second chapter of the story (hope you're enjoying it so far). Once again I DO NOT own these characters (thank you, Cassandra Clare), or this story (thank you, candycop99). If you like it, go ahead and give it a review, and if you don't, I'm welcome to constructive criticism. Thank you for your help.**

Clary

The alarm clock skidded off my bedside table for having slammed it too hard. I sat up and stretched. Here came the jet lag.

I rinsed quickly under the shower, and opened the cupboard. I needed to make a good impression today. A pair of light jean shorts would do, along with a green halter (which dipped a little too low for my comfort), a cropped leather jacket with its sleeves rolled back, and inch-high combat boots. I decided to curl my hair a little, instead of tying it back into its usual ponytail. A dash of makeup and a quick slap in the face to wake me up, and I was ready.

Isabelle was trying her hand at breakfast, and failing. "Could you–?" I rolled my eyes and made up some eggs and toast. We had half an hour to get to class by the time we were finished and fully ready.

"OK, so before you go to class, I feel like you should meet some people. We're going to the common room."

I groaned.

With the taste of toothpaste on my tongue, I locked the door behind me and walked with Isabelle through the warren of corridors and hallways. All eyes were, unfortunately, on me. I was the only new person. Feeling uncomfortable, I followed Isabelle to her group of friends. Along the way, I heard whispers of "who's that?" and "is that the new girl?" or even "she's hot" (thanks, males). I was introduced to three girls – Maia, Kaeley, and Aline. Maia was dark-skinned, with short mahogany hair and eyes. Kaeley had strawberry blonde hair with electric blue streaks through it, and tanned skin. Aline, on the other hand, had long, brown hair, hazel eyes, and skin so pale she might never have been outside in her life.

Among them, Isabelle looked the most fashionable. She pulled off an outfit I could never have worn. She wore a a high-low, grey, tummy button-high top, sheer blue leggings, and five-inch heels. I felt ridiculously tacky in my shorts and boots.

They were just as nice as Isabelle, thank goodness. They asked me questions about New York, how I was enjoying California, what my skill was, and so on, until Sebastian interrupted us.

He and a group of friends walked towards us. I got up from the sofa we sat on, and gave him a swift hug. I could almost hear the jaws dropping. "Hi," I said.

"Firecracker," he smiled, "you're going to be late. Come on."

Maths in the morning, yawn. I could hardly stay awake as it was, and with a subject I was already well-versed in, I would most definitely fall asleep. I didn't bother taking notes; instead I started to draw in my notebook. In my peripherals I spied a pair of eyes on me. To my left, a boy sat staring at me. A near gasp escaped me – he was so perfect. There were strands of hair like spun gold falling into his molten eyes the colour of the sun. He was lean and muscular, but not too much. I could tell that he was tall, outstripping me by almost eight inches. He looked almost _too_ perfect. There had to be something wrong with him, I told myself. He had to have at least one flaw. He saw me looking at him and grinned, revealing a chip in his teeth. Good, there was one thing he could repair.

I whipped my head back to my notebook, and continued the drawing. Try as I might, I couldn't concentrate. Through the entire class, the tanned boy's golden eyes were trained on me. He barely looked away. I should have felt invaded, but I didn't; only embarrassed. As soon as the bell rang, I gathered up my things and rushed to my next class.

The next two classes weren't any better. It would appear that I had the exact same schedule as the twin of Adonis, who didn't break from his staring game, and didn't talk to me, either. Lunch was easy; Isabelle and her friends welcomed me at their table, and we laughed. At least the next class of the day had to be good: I had sports.

I pushed my locker shut, pulling on a shirt with the school's logo on it, a pair of shorts, and trainers. Once in the gym, I sat on the bleachers with everyone else. There was a wrestling mat in the middle of the floor. Had I come in at the time of the combat unit?

The coach welcomed us, and went through a few simple moves. I smirked, blocking out his voice. I knew all of this. Over to the right, I saw with an internal groan, sat the golden boy, who had mercifully pulled off from staring at me. The coach called out two people to the floor to fight each other. The minutes drew on, and pairs of people fought each other on the mat. Near the end, I heard my name, and a person called Jace. I watched as the boy who had been staring at me all day strutted up to the mat. Great.

"Well, since you're new, and everything, I won't unleash the entire brilliance that is me on you, OK?" he said. Even his voice sounded like an angel's! "I'm still going to have to beat you, though," he added.

"Arrogant, much?" I teased. "And who said you would beat me?" I stood still, mimicking the stance of someone unprepared. Jace lowered himself into a fighting crouch.

"I'll try not to hit that pretty face," he smirked.

"And I'll avoid messing you up so badly that your own mother wouldn't know you." I put my hands behind the back of my neck and swung lazily.

"Ready," came the voice of the teacher. We acquiesced.

Everyone was watching with rapt attention. I could hear the exchange of bets from the back of the bleachers over who would win. _Me_, I thought.

The coach blew his whistle, cueing us to start. Jace threw a punch, which I dodged by moving my head to the side. My arms stayed where they were, and I looked bored as ever. He aimed blow after blow at my face, and I kept evading them.

"Stop dodging, and prove yourself! I bet you don't even know what you're doing," someone called from the side. I scoffed.

At Jace's next punch I grabbed his fist in one hand. I jerked his hand back, kneed him in the gut, and flipped him over my shoulder without breaking a sweat. "Damn," I said, "I broke a nail for you. And you look like you've been run over by a truck," I added, giggling, "my truck."

I looked over at the rest of the class, all of whom were staring at me as if I'd said, "Robot unicorns are taking over the world! Call the super puppies, they're sure to save us!" The bell rang sharply, and I offered my hand to Jace, who was still on the floor. I smiled, trying to be friendly, but he ignored my help. I shrugged, and went to change.

There was a low whisper following me as I stripped down to my underwear. Just as I was about to pull on my shorts again, my clothes were snatched out of my hand. I looked behind me, and saw a blonde girl, who, like me, was wearing nothing but her bra and pants.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Who in the right mind would think of beating up Jace Herondale?" she practically screamed at me, while she and her posse (who I could guess where his fan club) nodded in agreement.

"Give me my clothes back," I sighed. The girl simply glared at me, and pushed me out of the changing room, into the hallway. She locked the door.

To my absolute horror the shuffle of feet and boys' joking voices began to draw near. I smacked the door, demanding to be let in. There was nothing but cruel laughter, and a cry of "you shouldn't have hit him!"

I lowered myself down and braced myself to kick down the door. Just as I was about to lift my leg, a group of boys rounded the corner. Among them were my brother and his friends, and, of course, the golden boy. I cringed, realising that they would see me in my red bra and pants, in plain view.

The door clicked open, and I pulled out the blonde (still in her underwear) by her hair into the corridor. "You _slut_!" she yelled, and lifted her hand as if to slap me. Too angry to back off, I countered her, and soon we were kicking and screaming fiercely. We only stopped when a low voice called, "Clary."

I let go of the girl, turned towards Sebastian, and put my hands on my hips. "What?"

He took a step away from his group, and towards me. "I know that two girls fighting in their underwear is a rare sight for such depraved guys as these, but I would much rather you could avoid doing it around me. Being your brother."

Blondie stared at me, eyes even wider than the boys'. "Your brother is _Sebastian Fray_?" she screamed.

"Yeah, he is." I said coldly.

"Oh, so, you won't mind if I tell him. Sebastian, your little sister here beat up Jace just now. He kept trying to punch her and she was dodging him, until she grabbed his hand, kicked him in the gut, and floored him!"

"Nice narration," I muttered. "I actually _kneed_ him in the gut."

Sebastian looked from me to Jace, who I noticed was staring at me. "Oh, my God," he whispered, and the blonde girl nodded enthusiastically, only to stop as she saw that Sebastian was laughing. "I can't believe … that _you_ … went up … against … Clary!" he managed to choke out between peals of laughter. When he finally calmed down, he explained to Jace that I was a professional fighter. Impressed looks plastered over the faces of the onlookers.

"Listen, Sebastian, I bet you didn't know that, just for doing what the coach asked us to do, Blondie bitch took my clothes while I was changing and pushed me out into the hallway," I said, mimicking her tone.

"Seelie," Sebastian said matter-of-factly, "has always been a bitch."

She breathed in sharply, and stomped back into the changing room, slamming the door behind her. I pursed my lips, trying not to smile. Still, I felt bad. It wasn't fair to be insulted like that.

"As much as my perverted friends disagree, I, your _big brother_, would appreciate it if you could go and put some clothes on, before I could kick my friends' asses for staring at you a little south of the face," Sebastian said, glaring at his friends, who all looked away quickly.

"I'm freezing," I said, "I'm going to put some clothes on. Thanks," I added, and started towards the door. Sebastian smiled, and turned away.

"I kind of like you better dressed like that, actually!" Jace called back at me. I blushed furiously, and heard a thump as my brother smacked him. He laughed wickedly.

After I changed into my clothes, I headed back up to the dormitory to drop off my sports gear. Isabelle wasn't there, so I looked for her in the common room. Sure enough, she sat with Aline, Kaeley and Maia. As soon as I walked in, Kaeley grinned.

"So," she said as I sat down, "did you really beat up Jace Herondale?" I nodded.

"And you had a cat fight with Seelie the Queen in your underwear, in the middle of the hallway?" Maia picked up from her.

"Yes, I did," I mumbled, hiding inside my hair.

"And Jace and your brother walked in on it, I heard," Isabelle teased.

"God, news travels fast in this school," I said.

Aline laughed. "What did Jace say?"

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Clary, everyone likes Jace. What did he say?"

"That, er, he liked me better without my clothes on," I stammered. The girls whooped in delight, and laughed madly. I had to admit, it was flattering for him to say that. I thanked God that I was fit; else my stomach might not have been so flat. Still, a girl in underwear is a girl in underwear, and any member of the opposite sex is likely to enjoy it. I felt slightly violated – imagination is a powerful tool – but still strangely happy.


	3. Are you ready?

**Third installation of the School of the Skilled. I don't own these characters (Cassandra Clare does) or this storyline (candycop99 does). Please give it a review if you have the time.**

Jace

Sebastian pulled me down the hallway by the scruff of my neck. It hurt like hell, but I didn't really care. I had just seen one of the most beautiful girls in the school – in her underwear, no less. She was toned, skinny, and shapely. She could use a little sun (nothing California's summers couldn't fix), but that made her all the more attractive. She looked like a snow queen. And she could defend herself, too. I knew why Sebastian called her 'firecracker' now, at least.

I remembered how she blushed when she heard me tell her she looked good, but my thought was interrupted by Sebastian: "What the absolute _hell_, Jace? _She's my little sister, and you look at her like she's something to eat_! She isn't some girl in a club!" He shook my neck harder, and I winced. For a computer genius, Sebastian kept his strength up like a wrestler.

Don't blame me! You wouldn't want to face an angry, pissed off, over-protective brother when you were caught staring at his hot little sister … half-naked. He finally stopped, and let go of my neck and hair. He grabbed the front of my shirt. "If I ever see you looking at my sister that way, I will make sure you hear from me. And if _any_ of you," he said, looking around at our group of friends menacingly, "hurt her, or even try to take advantage of her, I will hunt you down and kill you after she does."

Sebastian dropped his fist from my shirt. "Just this once, I'll let it slide. But don't expect me to be so kind next time. Hell, there had better not be a next time."

Wait – that was _nice_? He ripped half of my hair out! I mean, I'd still be as attractive as I am now, but my scalp was on fire. I grumbled in assent and headed to my next class. As I strode along, I noticed someone standing in what students called the forbidden corridor. I stopped, and called, "Dude! You're not meant to be down there! Do you want a detention?" I drew nearer, and realised that it was not, in fact, a 'dude', but rather a fiery redhead – fully clothed, mind.

"Clary? What are you doing here?" I saw that her hand rested on the handle of one of the many doors. Her eyes were unfocused when she turned around, and she stared vacantly at me before shaking her head.

"I got lost. This school is massive."

"Right, but this isn't where you need to be getting lost. This is a hallway no students are allowed down. I don't know why."

"Jace," she said quietly, and I shivered to hear her say my name. "There's this thing called personal space. Do you know about it? Because you're in mine."

I stepped back from where I saw I stood. Our bodies were nearly touching, emphasising our difference in height. She barely reached my shoulder. "Sorry," I muttered. The bell rang sharply, interrupting the silence. "Do you need help finding your class?" She nodded. "Let me see your schedule."

She took out the thin piece of paper, dragging her eyes over it. One of her long locks of red hair fell from her ear, and I fought the urge to push it back. I took the paper from her, and mentally compared it to my own. A moment of happy realisation: we had all of our classes together. _Yes_, I thought.

"Yes about what?" Clary asked. Had I said that out loud?

"We have all of our classes together. I see your stalking skills are up to date, are you sure that's not what you're in for?"

"You wish," she smirked. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Our teacher looked up from the register and scowled. I pointed at Clary, and said she got lost. He broke into a smile and pointed her towards the seat next to mine.

Clary

Great, just great! I had every one of my classes with him! If only he hadn't stopped me from opening that door … anyone who knows me knows that a curious Clary, is a determined Clary. And that's never good. When I was nine years old, I wanted to know how babies were made – that didn't end well.

My next lesson was an art class. Thank God! Fighting isn't my only skill. One of my other talents is drawing. I inherited that from my mother, some of whose paintings hang on the walls of famous art galleries. I sank into my seat once in the art studio, and pulled out my sketchbook. My hand danced over the page, tracing out lines and shading in spaces in a quick ballet of graphite. When I draw, I tend to concentrate too hard. When Sebastian and I still lived in New York, he was trying to make me listen to a story while I was drawing. He had tried many things – poking me with a pencil, screaming in my ear, getting close to my face. Nothing was working until he took me by the waist, and dragged me away from the paper. I remember having looked up innocently, and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

I felt my sketchpad being ripped away from me. "What the–?"

I may have said it too loud, for a few pairs of disapproving eyes were laid on me. I looked up at the culprit – Jace.

"This is really good, Clary," he said. I had drawn a sketch of a doorknob, outlining every detail. I snatched the book out of his hand.

"You do know that you're not meant to take things from people without their permission, right?"

"I did try," he started, "I even poked you with a pencil! But you weren't doing anything." I was about to defend myself when the professor walked in. Jace sat down next to me to avoid trouble.

"All right, today you're going to do a portrait of the person next to you. Let's not be boring, though," she continued, "you have to add a mystical feature to the drawing. Make it anything you want: snakes for hair, vampire teeth, anything! Your partner can, of course, request you draw them in a specific way. You have to obey, but be creative."

Jace turned towards me. "I'm rubbish at art."

"I'll paint you first, then," I said with a smile. "What do you want?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying, "I want you to paint me shirtless. You can add whatever feature you want." I looked on in horror as Jace tugged at his shirt. I quickly raised my hand.

"Am I allowed to do that?" I beseeched of the professor. She laughed, and nodded.

I turned back to a shirtless Jace, on whom every girl's eyes were trained. Even some of the boys looked on, some with jealousy, and some with closeted admiration. I rolled my eyes as he struck a pose that enhanced his muscle. "Draw away," he said.

A few lines, a few shades, were all I needed to start me off. I allowed myself to be lost in my drawing. Colours merged, pencils scratched at the paper, and a portrait rose into being. Once I was finished, I drew out of my trance and observed my work. On the paper, sat Jace with his arms crossed. I had drawn him exactly, with the added feature of an angel's wings. They were spread behind him, making it look like he might be about to take flight. The only thing I could find wrong with the painting was that it didn't have the quality that made it _Jace_. Though he truly looked like a god on paper, he didn't look like himself. I set my pencil aside.

My subject noticed that I had finished, and asked for the drawing. I nodded without realising. He stared wide-eyed at what I had just drawn. "If you thought I was an angel, you just have said," he said quietly, though without the sarcasm. "Professor," he called without taking his eyes off the paper, "look at this." I stood in front of the easel, shielding my work from any prying eyes. "No," I said, "it's not good."

Jace pulled me away from the easel and crushed me against his still shirt-free chest. I knocked my fists against him, trying to break free, but his arms around me were surprisingly strong. I could have floored him if I had wanted to, yet I stayed where I was.

The teacher still hadn't said anything. A small group of people had gathered, and all were looking at my painting. "You wouldn't mind if I framed this, would you, Clary?" said the professor. I looked up and said, "no, of course not." Jace patted my back as if to commend me. His hand lingered, and slid downwards. Before he could reach his target, I slapped him in the shoulder. He released me, thank God.

There wasn't enough time left in the lesson for Jace to draw me. It was, mercifully, the end of the day. I escaped the classroom, looking to avoid the golden boy, but he followed me out. "Well, Clary," he said, "I was starting to worry that I'd lost my touch! But I knew you liked me."

"I don't like you," I mocked.

"Why did you paint me as an angel, then?"

"Angel wings contrast well with your natural colours. You have the typical golden eyes, hair, and complexion that most angels are depicted as having. Along with the blue background I gave it, the painting was a mixture of colours and less a focus on subject."

"And the symbol on my chest?" I had forgotten having drawn that. I had dropped a bit of black paint on the pectoral area, and wished to correct it. Instead of blurring it out, I enhanced it to create a diamond-shape with two prongs elongating its sides.

"It was a cover-up."

"Yeah, I'm just going to go with, 'you like me'." I rolled my eyes and began to walk up the stairs. Sebastian stopped me, appearing out of nowhere.

"How was your first day, firecracker? Start any riots?"

I was about to reply, when Jace said haughtily, "Clary totally likes me," and laughed.

"Got a crush?" Seb smiled. I shook my head, but he continued to tease me. The only way I could think of to make him shut up was to turn his attention off me, and onto someone else. So I gathered up my things and prepared to run.

"Seb, Jace took off his shirt in front of me today. He also tried to cop a feel at me in art. I think he might be trying to get me into bed!" I blurted out, and sprinted up the flight of stairs. Almost immediately, a hoarse yell erupted.

"You _what_?"

I ran all of the way to my dorm, unlocked the door with my fob, and went into my room. Oh, God, what a day that had been. I fell asleep. At least tomorrow was Saturday; I didn't have to suffer another day of classes.

"Clary!" Isabelle shouted in my ear.

I groaned. "Go away."

"Oh, good, you're awake. I've been trying to get you up for ages! Now, come on, Sleeping Beauty, we're going to a club."

"Isabelle, leave me alone. I don't like clubs. I like pillows and blankets and _sleep_." I pulled the covers back over my head, only to feel them torn away from me.

"CLARY, IF YOU DON'T GET THAT ASS OUT OF BED, SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL POUR WATER OVER YOU!" I cracked an eye open, and shut it again. She was bluffing. Of course she was bluffing. No one ever goes through on threats like that. I rolled over and slept on. I had almost fallen asleep again, when I felt ice cold water hit my body. I sat up in bed, roaring.

"WHAT THE HELL?" I scrabbled up from my bed, ready to deliver a solid kick to whoever had woken me. Isabelle stood over the bed, a blue bucket in hand, laughing. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" I screeched.

"You weren't getting up," she said innocently.

"Well, I'm awake now. Happy?"

"Yes, actually."

I huffed in annoyance and began to pull the sheets off the bed to dry them off. "A club, huh?" my voice was muffled by the sopping pile of linens in my arms.

"Yep," Isabelle said, taking some of the covers from me. "It's new, it has a cool name, and I know the bouncer. I was thinking…" From there on in I only caught a few words, including 'new dress', 'boys', and 'dancing'.

We hung the sheets over a makeshift hanging line across the living room. Isabelle disappeared for a second, and then returned, holding a very skimpy dress. It was a strapless, black number with black lace from the waist down. There was a black belt tied where the lace began. It looked tight fitting, and very, _very_ short.

"Izzy," I cried, "you'll look like a hooker with that on!" Now it was her turn to kill me with a stare.

"Good thing it's for you, then. I designed it." I was taken aback. That was a square of cloth, not a dress!

"Please? I'll pay you back, I promise! Please…" she dragged out the 'e'. I rolled my eyes and looked away. "…eeeeeeeeee…" she continued. _No_, I told myself. "…eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…" _Absolutely not_.

"…EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..."

"FINE!" I shouted. "Now shut up!"

She jumped up and down excitedly. "Brilliant! Right, go and take a shower. It's seven right now, and we're out for nine. Oh, God, we need to hurry. Go!" I put my hands up and scurried away into my bathroom.

The bathroom was full of steam when I was finished, and I stepped out of the shower smelling of apples. Wrapped up in a towel, I walked into my room to see Isabelle sitting on the bed. She smiled and dragged me into her room.

I was pushed into a chair in front of a dressing table. Loaded onto its small surface were a veritable army of accessories, makeup, and jewellery. Not having been in Isabelle's room before now, I had a look around. Her walls had been painted hot pink and black. Though her room had the same layout as mine, she managed to make it look as trendy as she was. It was hugely messy, but it fit. Her cupboard overflowed with beautiful clothes.

Isabelle took out a hairdryer and began to tame the monstrosity of hair on my head. It took her far too long to untangle all of the knots, and she was murder on the hairbrush. My scalp felt raw and bruised. She pulled out a curling iron and plugged it in. My hair was curled gently around my face.

"Right, what are we doing with your hair?" she said to herself, before tying it back in an artful plait. She then applied black makeup on my face, making my eyes stand out against my pale skin. I was all angles now; she finished off with bloody lipstick. Isabelle handed me white-to-black fake nails, which I snapped on.

I wasn't allowed to see what I looked like, because we were rushing. A set of ridiculous underwear, the dress, and red, six inch stilettos were thrust into my arms. I looked at the thong and push-up bra in horror, and the suicidal shoes.

"I knew it! I knew you were trying to kill me!" I moaned.

"Stop complaining, and put them on," she said, and turned to do her own makeup.

I headed into my own bathroom, the mirror still fogged with condensation. Once I had slid on the dress, which fit perfectly, I tied a simple gold chain around my neck. I decided to save the shoes for later (I didn't want to die before even having walked out of the school). Back in Isabelle's room, where she was straightening her hair, I went. She turned around and grinned.

"God, I'm brilliant," she said. "Turn around, let me zip it up."

"These heels are going to be impossible," I said, to which she only laughed.

"Try them on anyway." I complied. I rose by half a foot, which I found satisfying, but I could hardly walk. It took me some practice, but I could teeter around without falling over. I turned around to see Isabelle in a plum wrap dress and grey suede knee-boots. She looked incredible.

"Look at yourself," she said absently, topping up her mascara.

There was a stranger in the mirror. Her eyes were highlighted by the sharp eyeliner, making them all the more green. The red lipstick gave her a touch of sexiness, and her hair, pulled back as it was, complimented it. The braid looped over her shoulder and down to her chest, where the dress started. It was, indeed, short. Though it fitted perfectly over her curves, it did not make her look like a hooker, as I had previously thought. The heels made her legs look longer, and taller.

"Who is she?" I mumbled.

"You, babe," Isabelle laughed. I shot her a look and pushed my phone, my fob, and the tube of lipstick down my bra. Where else would I put them? Any bag I usually took with me got miserably lost.

Isabelle's phone beeped, and she looked down, typing furiously. "Aline and the others are going to meet us at the club, OK?" I nodded. "Let's go."

We walked out of our room with our heads held high. We passed by the common room to 'showcase our utterly god-like appearance', according to my roommate. There were appreciative glances and the odd whistle. We were about to move along, when Sebastian caught us. Jace followed him to where we were. He was looking at us, smiling. I felt my stomach squirm nervously.

"Where are you going, dressed like that?" growled my brother.

"Pandemonium," Isabelle answered smoothly.

"You're taking her out? In that disgrace of a dress?"

"Manners, sir," she said. "It's not like we were going to a brothel. We're going dancing. See you later." We turned to go, but Sebastian stopped us again.

"Wait, you're not going anywhere but the club, right?"

"We might go out for a late dinner after," I said. "Dancing is exercise, you know."

"You've got your phone?"

"Yes," I replied, ready for a plethora of similar questions.

"You'll stay together?"

"Yep."

"You'll not go home with anyone?"

"Obviously not."

"You'll be careful?"

"Dammit, Sebastian, just let them go," Jace joked. "They'll be fine. Clary can defend herself." I nodded.

"Have fun, then," he said.

We almost ran through the school, and out into the car park. Isabelle's car was a sleek red convertible. We climbed inside, and whooped with excitement.

Jace

Football practice is hell any day, but even more so when the coach has us run five laps of the pitch for kicks. I had my evening planned out: shower, Chinese takeout, a movie, and bed. Just before returning to my room, Sebastian and I stopped by the common room.

All the girls in our year were there, flirting back and forth with our group of friends. Everyone but Maia, Kaeley, Aline, Isabelle, and Clary. Just as I noticed her absence, she and her roommate sauntered past the doorway.

I couldn't help it. I had to look. It was like she was trying to make me lose my mind. She wore a short dress that hugged her figure, and sky-high heels that raised her to my nose. The amount of skin she showed was unbearable. She walked by with a swing in her hips, chatting merrily with Isabelle.

Sebastian's head whipped around, and he dragged me up to them. He began a running questionnaire of her plans for the night. They were heading for a new club in the city. I hadn't been, but I had heard that it was good. I zoned out, focusing on Clary. I wasn't being perverted, no – she was just beautiful to look at.

As soon as they left, Sebastian pulled me towards our dormitory. Jordan and Jonathan, two of our best friends, followed us. "Seb, what are you doing?" asked the former warily.

"We," Sebastian responded, "are going to Pandemonium. Get changed and come back down here afterwards. I want to make sure my sister stays safe."

"Dude, just let her be," Jonathan tried. Sebastian rounded on him.

"You think she'll be left alone tonight? Looking like that? You think anyone is going to ignore that? She's going to be bothered, I know it. I want to know that she's safe, and so we're going to look out for her. If any of you decide to make a move on her," he looked pointedly at me, "you can stay here."

I sighed, resigned. So much for Chinese.


	4. Pandemonium

**Hello again munchkins :) so I'm now beginning to deviate a little from the main storyline provided by candycop99. Once again, Cassandra Clare is the true genius behind these characters. If you like the story, please give it a nice review, or follow me for relatively frequent updates on the story.**

Clary

As we sped towards the club, I unbuckled my seatbelt, and hoisted myself up to a standing position. I clung to the windscreen for support, and, when I was sure of my stability, I let go. The wind whipped up my hair, pulling it out of the plait it was in. It fanned around me in a red halo. I spread my arms and screamed with exhilaration. I was aflame, I was a bird, I was free. A bubbling laugh escaped me, and Isabelle looked up, and smiled. She stepped down on the accelerator. Soft sea air brushed over my skin. The dark mass that was the ocean lay to the west, lined by palm trees swaying in the night's hold. The bloody fingertips of sunset were just disappearing over the horizon.

I stood like a windbreak all the way to Pandemonium. When we arrived, I stepped down, and combed through my hair with my fingers. "Lipstick," Isabelle said, and I pulled the tube out. Once we were prepared, we got out of the car. The line wrapped itself around several blocks, and I groaned.

Instead of heading to the back of the queue, Isabelle strutted up to the front of the line. She had a flirty conversation with the bouncer (a thickset man with more testosterone than brain), and we were let in. Adrenaline mounted inside me, and I was buzzing as I entered the club, and I felt my heart start to race.

The wave of sound that crashed onto our ears was indescribable. Bass from the speakers coursed through the floor, and the crowd of dancers thrummed to the beat. It was an ever-moving mass of people, swirling around the dance floor. The DJ looked lost in his music. Over by the bar, a string of would-be drunks downed shot after shot, making them dance increasingly erratically. Strobe lights flashed, lighting the high-ceilinged room with a blue glow. It was, truly, Pandemonium.

The music was good, and the atmosphere was vibrant. Aline, Kaeley, and Maia found us and there was a fit of high-pitched screaming as greetings were made. Isabelle grabbed my hand and tugged me into the crowd, where we were almost immediately assailed by university-age guys. We danced with some difficulty, always with the danger of being crushed by the crowd, but our bodies grew accustomed to the pulse of the dancers. Once my heartbeat aligned with the song, and my feet moved with the club, I was part of the music.

One of the boys we were dancing with pulled me aside, and close to him. I was a little tipsy, and high on the rhythm of Pandemonium, so I forgot my inhibitions. I danced against someone I didn't know, to music I'd never heard, in a place I'd never been to before, and I laughed while doing it.

There was a flash of glitter, and a young man of maybe twenty stepped into the DJ's box. He plucked a microphone from the turntable, and shouted, "welcome!" There was a shout in reply, and he smiled, flashing perfect teeth. He had dark hair, tipped with electric blue, and his very person was encased in sparking, tinsel-like clothing. Dressed in a dark suit, which glinted madly when he turned, he certainly looked wealthy. He was fashionable, it was clear, but he was an explosion of glitz.

"Welcome," he said again. "My name is Magnus Bane, and I am your host tonight." Another enthusiastic yell came from the crowd. "Enjoy yourselves!" The music beat back into being, and the crowd began to move again.

"Hey, I know him!" Isabelle shouted in my ear. "Let's go and find him!"

I was pulled away from my dance partner, and towards the sparkling man in black. Before we could reach him, however, my hand was torn from Isabelle's. She didn't seem to notice, and continued on her way. I sighed, and headed towards the bar for a drink. Once there, I knocked back a few drinks, then turned back to the dance floor.

"Clary." I turned towards the voice, one that I knew in a heartbeat, and saw Jace. I smiled, and took his hand, pulling him into the dance.

"What are you doing here?" I yelled.

"Same as you," he smirked, and turned me in a circle. I found myself in his arms, having spun too fast on these ridiculous heels. "Whoah, there," he chuckled, "I think you'd better sit down." I nodded and followed him away.

Jace

As soon as we arrived at the club, nearly an hour after Clary and Isabelle had left, we found them dancing around a group of older boys. Sebastian growled, and I felt a twist in my stomach. She should have been dancing with _me_, she should have been laughing with _me_. I wanted for her to be happy when she was around me.

I realised then that I belonged entirely to her. I would be hers, and hers alone. Forget the girls crowding around us; forget the kisses in dark corners; hang it all – there was only one person I wanted by my side.

Having gathered by the bar, our friends immediately decided to get wasted. After all, there were no classes tomorrow. They didn't need to be sparing. I turned down every drink headed my way, settling instead for a beer.

"C'mon, man," Jonathan yelled over his second shot of vodka, "it's Friday!"

I shook my head, and took a sip from my bottle. Sebastian wanted us to keep an eye on Clary, and I would do just that. And, I told myself, what better way to do it than to dance with her? So I put down my drink, batted away Sebastian's protests, and elbowed my way through the fray to reach her.

"Clary," I said, and she turned around. Her hair flipped into my face, and I caught a waft of apple. She smiled, her eyes shining with alcohol. She was sweating slightly, and her dress had fallen from bouncing up and down. I tried my best not to look.

She grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the dance. I looked back at Sebastian, who made a rude hand gesture at me, but didn't make a move towards us. He simply sighed and turned back towards the bar.

After a particularly fast spin, Clary stumbled drunkenly into my arms. I lifted her back onto her feet, and invited her to sit down. She needed to be _pulled_ towards the sofa at the edge of the room. There were several, most of which were invaded by tired dancers and couples who couldn't be further away from each other than their lips.

We crashed into the couch, and Clary giggled. "You're a very good dancer," she said.

"I'm good at pretty much everything," I said smiling.

"Didn't stop me from beating you senseless this morning."

"I let you do that," I said.

"You're lying!"

"And you're very drunk."

She scoffed, and hiccupped. "I should find Isabelle." Her hair fell from the loose bun she had scraped it into, sticking to the skin on her neck. I itched to tuck it behind her ear. Clary stood up, gained her balance on her heels (God, those looked devilish to wear), and prepared to walk off. "Are you coming?"

I sighed in mock resignation, and followed her around the outskirts of the crowd. I noticed Sebastian trying to catch my eye, and I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring fashion. From the scowl plastered on his face, it was clear that I failed. Miserably.

We found Isabelle talking to Magnus and Alec, my brother. He looked like he might be Asian. Under the mask of shining makeup, hair gel, and clothing, he was normal, a little on the handsome side. He had contact lenses that made his irises feral yellow, and his pupils slit like a cat's. _OK then_, I thought.

"And this must be Clary!" Magnus cried, and enfolded her in a shimmering hug. "I know all about you, thanks to Isabelle over here." Clary shot her a look, and moved back towards me.

Magnus winked at her, and turned his cat-like gaze towards me. "And you are Jace, Isabelle and Alec's brother, yes?" I nodded, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clary start. She elbowed me in the ribs. In return, I poked her in the back.

She squealed sharply. "Isabelle, can we go home? I'm tired."

"And not a bit plastered," I added.

Isabelle ignored me, and escorted Clary back through the mosh, to the door. They had a sharp argument with the bouncer, it seemed, and ran off into the night, arm in arm, laughing. Alec and Magnus were in deep conversation (yellow eyes locked on periwinkle blue, voices lowered as if in conspiracy), and I could see Sebastian beckoning.

"Dude," he said as I came over, "you need to back out of her space."

"What?" I put my hands up defensively. "You said to keep an eye on her."

"Yeah, not by _grinding_ on her!"

"I did _not_ grind on her," I said. Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man, I like her. She's fun." I looked away, expecting an explosion.

Instead, there was a laugh. "Oh, my God," he muttered. "I knew this would happen." He looked down from the ceiling. "You be careful around her. I don't want her getting hurt."

"Wh–?"

"Come on," Sebastian interrupted, "let's get the others. Let's go back."

Jonathan was, of course, with a girl. Jordan and Patrick were trying to fend off Seelie and her friend, who had invaded their drinking session. Alec met us by the door.

When we arrived back at the academy, it was almost three o'clock in the morning. The hallways were dark and the dormitories were quiet. Sebastian unlocked the door to our apartment, and as soon as I reached my room, I dropped onto my bed. Try as I might, though, I couldn't fall asleep.

Throwing the covers back, I grabbed my key off the table and left the dormitory. I ascended to the top floor of the building, and onto the roof. There was a greenhouse there, a beautiful place with plants I had seldom seen in my life before I had come to the school. There were flowers with healing properties, plants that could harm as easily as a knife, trees that could protect you. Trees were grown in a nursery, and then transplanted into the grounds. We were told not to go near a lot of them.

Once the plants left the greenhouse, they were seldom seen again. We only saw the trees, because they were set into root throughout the forest the campus held. The plants were taken for God knows what.

The greenhouse was my haven. I had spent many days and nights up here. I felt safe in its glass walls. It had two floors, connected by a narrow corkscrew iron stairwell. I climbed up, onto the top step, and looked out upon the ocean.

I stayed there until dawn.


	5. Walk by Me

**-Dracula voice- Good evening...**

**OK HERE WE GO: I don't own the characters (Cassandra Clare) and the story is derived from someone else's (candycop99). Drop off a review when you're finished, if you please.**

Clary

I _hate_ being hung-over.

You wake up, eyes foggy and head pounding like a blacksmith's anvil. It takes you half an hour to even be able to open your lids properly without your vision spotting through with blackness. Once you sit up, you feel dizzy, and you crash back into your pillow. Eventually you decide to actually get up, and you go into the bathroom to look yourself in the mirror. Your own reflection makes you feel sick and you fight the urge to gag. You return to bed.

That's how the first hours of my morning went. At one point I found myself gasping over the rim of the toilet, but once that shaking ordeal was over, I could stand up without fainting. I traipsed into the kitchen and forced myself to eat a banana, and to drink a glass of juice. Isabelle was sitting around the island, working.

"Sobered up, have we?" she said in an annoyingly perky tone.

"Mrruuuh," I growled, and sat down next to her. I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, and sighed deeply. "How long have you been up?"

Isabelle chucked down her pen, and uttered, "damn maths!" I raised an eyebrow. "Since eight. Which means," she groaned, "that I've been struggling over numbers for the past four hours."

"If my brain weren't running on empty, I would help you. I'm not bad at maths." To prove my point, I yawned and burped at the same time. Isabelle snorted.

"OK then."

"When were you going to tell me that Jace was your brother?" I asked sternly.

"When you asked," she replied. "Sorry. I didn't think it really mattered."

I picked at the grain on the island. The silence was filled with the sound of Isabelle's pencil scratching at paper. "You should go for a walk," she said. "It's really cold today, but it'll wake you up. Come back for two, I'll order from Taki's when you come in."

"Taki's?"

"It's a takeout. They do all sorts. Go on, you need fresh air. You smell like death." She turned back to her homework.

"Thanks," I muttered, and went for a shower. I brushed my teeth (bad breath doesn't just _smell_ disgusting, it also tastes like a trash can) and heaped on clothing. A long-sleeved top under a jumper, a pair of red trousers and boots, a pair of gloves, a scarf, and my black winter coat all went on. When I walked out of the door with my fob my phone in my pocket, I crammed a beanie on my head, and left with my sketchbook and a pencil.

It was stifling to walk through the corridors in my wintry gear, but as soon as I left the building, I felt the fierce bite of cold. It had to be at most one degree outside. Though inside, it was warm enough to wear a pair of shorts, as soon as you stepped out, the weather wrapped you in its icy hands and kept you there. I wondered why I hadn't felt it last night. After all, I had been wearing nothing but a dress, and it wasn't thick.

My nose flushed to red, I could tell, and my fingers went a little numb. Though the cold had thoroughly woken me, and I wanted to go back inside, I had not yet seen the rest of the grounds, so I decided to tough it out.

The school itself was opposite the beach. The broad frontage with the windows and the columns turned towards the west. This meant that the grounds were warm in the morning, and, on a summer's night, there was a perfect opportunity for a sunset at the beach. It was across the road, and the school had a license to light fires on the sand. If only the hot weather might come sooner. I couldn't complain, though – I loved winter.

The headmaster, Hodge, had bought the grounds of the academy from a rich landowner planning to build a hotel. The school was on a strip of land where there were very few buildings, and by preventing the tower block that was sure to rise, he preserved the beauty of the area, all the while acquiring a sprawling space, the size of the parks at Versailles, on which to build his school. It was pleasant to walk through the campus. In summer it would have been green, certainly, but just now it was brown and grey. Still, there is something wonderful about the steel of winter. The ground hibernates. Leaves have been crushed into the sod, leaving the trees bare and cold. In the weeks between the last leaf and the first snow, the weather drops, and the sky falls to dark. It was unusually cold this year. The ocean surrounding us should have tempered the weather, but this winter would be harsh, I could tell.

The houses on the rolling land were small, but comfortable. There were twenty five of them in all. They were grouped in an area close to the school, but far enough that they wouldn't be disturbed by noise. On the northern end of the campus, there was a forest. It started out thin, but as you walked further into the woods the trees grew so close together that you couldn't walk into them. I gave up, and headed back into the sparser copses.

I came across an empty fountain, the main piece of which was a statue of an angel. It was not a peaceful angel. It was one of the warriors of the lord, who defended Heaven from evil. On its curly head was set a helmet. In one hand, it held a long sword, pointed upwards towards the sky. In the other hand, there was a cup, something like a chalice, or a goblet. Around its rim were carved strange markings, which I was sure meant something. Their meaning tugged at the back of my mind, like an itch I couldn't quite reach.

To satisfy my irritation, I sat down on one of the surrounding benches, and began to draw. If I took down the symbols, maybe I could look them up. Through the incessant thud of my headache, I forced myself to concentrate, and slowly, the image of the statue, and in particular the cup, came to shape.

What felt like hours later, I heard the slap of feet on wet leaves, and the sound of a throat being cleared. _Ignore it_, I told myself, and concentrated on the drawing.

"Clary," said Jace, and I looked up. He looked like he hadn't slept through the night. His blond hair was ruffled, and his clothes were the same from the night before. There were dark circles under his eyes, though they did nothing to mar his image.

My breath huffed out in front of me, and I mentally reminded myself to be civil. A headache was no excuse. "Hey, Jace," I said, and put the art utensils away.

"Exploring?" he sat down on the lip of the fountain, facing me. I nodded. "Well, this is a statue." He winked.

"I had kind of figured that out, thanks. I'm not that thick."

Jace laughed under his breath. "Obviously not, but I don't know how hung-over you are yet. I was checking up on your sanity. It was nothing but a service. You should thank me."

I bowed my head. "I'm not that bad."

"You did get completely smashed last night, though. I'm amazed you're even awake."

"It took a fair amount of willpower, yes."

"Headache? Cramps?" he looked up at me, his face soft – almost worried.

"The works," I groaned.

"Sorry."

"It was worth it, though."

Jace's head snapped up from where he was staring at his feet. He smiled. "Was it?"

I could almost feel myself blushing. I hadn't got drunk to the point that I couldn't remember what had happened. No, I knew exactly what I had done, who I had danced with, and for how long. I knew that he did, too. "I had fun." There was a moment of silence. I looked back up at the angel. "What is it?" I asked, pointing at the statue.

"That," he said, craning his neck to look, "is the angel Raziel."

"The angel who?"

"Raziel. Jonathan Shadowhunter summoned him, many thousands of years ago, by the items he holds in his hands. The Mortal Instruments, if you will. They are the cup, the sword, and the mirror."

"But – he only has two of them."

Jace nodded. "No one knows where the third is."

"How come there's a statue of him here?"

He shrugged. "Fountains are usually decorative, Clary, unless you'd forgotten." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"How is it that you know all of this? I've never heard of Raziel in my life, or even the Deadly Instruments–"

"_Mortal_ Instruments." I rolled my eyes. "And I happen to have grown up around parents that travel a lot, and so I know the legends and stories pretty well."

"Is that why you're in boarding school? Because they travel?"

"Partly," Jace said, his jaw tightening. "I also happen to be ridiculously good in all that is sport." I cocked my head in question. "I can play any sport to perfection. It's my skill."

"_Any_ sport?" My eyes fell to the smooth outline of muscle on his shoulders, arms, and legs. He was strong, I could tell.

"Name one."

"Swimming?"

"Yes."

"Running?"

"Yes."

"Rugby, football, archery, riding, scuba, tennis, Quidditch," I ranted, and to each name he nodded.

"Quidditch, I haven't tried," he said with a laugh.

"If you're so good at sports, how come you're so bad at fighting?"

Jace mocked indignation. "I'm not bad! I'm the best after you. You're just so good that you'd beat anyone, really."

"Oh, my God," I said, "an actual compliment."

"I must be very tired today. Sebastian told me to wake myself up with a walk."

"Funny, that's what your sister told me to do." I raised an eyebrow, and Jace laughed. I noticed that he didn't have a coat on. He was in the thin shirt I had seen him in when we were in Pandemonium. "Aren't you cold?" I asked. He nodded. I shrugged off my jacket and threw it over to him. "Here."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll look like a prat."

"You are a prat. Put it on, you're freezing." He groused under his breath and put on the coat, which was cut to fit a girl's curves, not a guy's lack of shape. I tried my best not to laugh. It was too small for him. Being my size meant that I could hardly fit into the extra small size in the adults' section in clothes shops. "I'm sorry," I choked through my laughter.

Jace stood up and struck a pose. "Please, I look fabulous in everything I wear. Even if it's a bit like putting a baby sock on a grown man's foot. But," he said as I scoffed, "It's warm, so thank you. Usually it's the other way around. I should be lending _you_ my jacket."

"Well," I sighed as I stood up to join him, "you can cross that off your bucket list. Why didn't you change from last night?"

"I was too tired to sleep, and now I want to shoot myself for it."

We walked away from the forest, and back towards the main grounds. Our breaths cast white clouds in the air before us, reminding us of the strangely cold winter on its way.

It was disconcertingly easy to talk to Jace. Though he was so big-headed that his shirts shouldn't have fit past his forehead, he was intelligent and clearly cultured. He made me laugh. I enjoyed his company.

When we reached the school once more, we peeled off our layers of clothing and parted ways at the dormitory corridors. I went on to my own room, after bidding him goodbye. I saw him turn around to smile at me as he went down the hallway.

Blushing furiously, I practically ran down the hall to my door. 114A had never been so inviting. Isabelle looked up from the television as I slammed the door. "Woken up properly, have we?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Hungry?"

"Starved."

The weekend was a slow crawl through the work I had to catch up on. Though I managed to get a lot of it done, I still had a lot to do. I had given myself less than three hours' worth of sleep on Saturday night, and so, on Sunday, I crashed into my bed like a wave.

Tuesday morning saw me in the gym again. The coach paired me with Jace again, the pair of us being the most practiced fighters in the class. I managed to down him in less than a minute. It was easy. I slammed the side of my hand into a pressure point on his neck, which knocked him flat out. The teacher looked at me as I lay him down on the floor, and said, "You've got to at least give him a chance, Clary," before moving off to the next pair of students he was watching. As tired as I was, I sat down next to Jace and waited for him to wake up for another round.

I had managed to push my phone into my shorts' pocket, and I pulled it out to a text from Emma. With all the work on the weekend, I had forgotten about her.

_Emma to Clary_: Hey :) remember me?

_Clary to Emma_: hi! How's it going?

_Emma to Clary_: everything's good. Settle in all right?

_Clary to Emma_: yep. What're you up to?

_Emma to Clary_: nothing much at all. Do you want to meet up?

We settled plans for a lunch out on Wednesday, which was a half day. I put my phone away when I saw Jace stirring. I rolled him up to a sitting position, pulling my hands across his shoulders like I had been taught to do. "Easy there," I said, "you've got a bit of a bruise on your back."

"Fuck, you're good at this," he groaned, rubbing his neck.

"I'll try not to be, next time."

Jace took in a deep breath, and opened his eyes. He smiled. "Nah. I'm going to have to pick up my game. I'll beat you eventually."

Seelie tried to pick a fight with me again in the locker rooms, but I chose to ignore her and move along. She would give up on me eventually – at least I hoped she would. One annoying blonde-haired person was enough; I didn't need another to worry about.

It was my turn to be a model in art class. I tried to sit still, but found it hard not to fidget. Jace had his tongue between his teeth as he worked. When he was finished, he put down his paintbrush, and winced. "Oh, dear," he said, "I've done too well."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me see." The easel shifted towards me, and I looked over the portrait. Jace was a good artist, granted, and though he had roughly captured the shape of my face well enough, he had my attitude all wrong. Here, he had me drawn as a vampire. I looked confident and dangerous. Needle-like fangs poked over my lips. The skin on my face was alabaster, and flawless. My hair stood out like a flame in the dark, bringing the blood on my chin into contrast. My eyes (painted black as the night) looked wild and threatening. This wasn't me – I was shy, introverted, and withdrawn, not aggressive, or imposing, or commanding.

"It's brilliant," I said. "Seriously."

"I've impressed you," he said, a cocky smile playing on his lips. "You thought I would draw you as a slug and be done with it."

"I did not! I just didn't think you would be especially good at this."

"What can I say? I am a talented guy."

"Right. One piece of advice for you – try and keep to what the person you are drawing is like. If they suit the mentality of a vampire, fine. But I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not a bloodthirsty monster, am I?"

"It depends on what you're hiding from me," he said. "In Southern America, vampires are supposed to be creatures of the night, that are stealthy and clever. They are fast and agile, have the potential to do great damage, and yet only steal blood. They can be dangerous and feral, and they can be beautiful as the moon. You fit that description."

Before I could decide which part of the description he meant, the teacher had come over to look at Jace's work. She thought it necessary to frame his, as well, and hang it alongside mine in her office, where she claimed to keep her best students' collection.

Class was dismissed, and the day was finished. That night, I sat at my desk, working, trying to cram some kind of information into my head. Exams were coming up fairly soon, and for someone who had missed half of the semester, things were not looking too sunny.

I phoned my mother, and chatted to Simon for a while. He was watching a film while we talked, so he was distracted, which took away the fun from our conversation. It didn't matter, though. He was my best friend, so we didn't need to say anything to understand each other. I missed him, far too much for words. He would be able to help me through the new girl thing. I didn't like to be the object of interest. My fighting façade was only a mask, through which I could see the world without them seeing me. I only used it when I was in an unfamiliar environment. It would drop eventually, and I could hide inside myself again.

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	6. Demons

**Hello hello munchkins :D**

**First of all - I didn't expect such a large audience for this story, so thank you and keep reading!**

**Second of all - you know the drill, I take nada credit-o for this story's idea (candycop99) or these characters (Cassandra Clare). In this chapter I quote a little bit (a lot) from The City of Bones, OK? Thank thee muchly.**

Jace

Bloody hell. That's all I could think.  
I had spent the last two weeks of my life running away from Sebastian, who was under the distinct impression that I was trying to murder/abduct/kidnap his sister all because of an incident in the gym. I mean, it wasn't like I had _meant _to grab her there. I had only wanted to catch her when she had tripped.  
It was odd enough that she had stumbled in the first place, being as good as she was at slamming me to the floor (don't). Though I had promised to myself to be better than her, and though I had been working out more frequently, I doubted that such progress had arisen, so fast.  
And so it was that Sebastian, even after having told me he was all right with it, was warding me away from Clary whenever he could. Still, I had managed to see her in classes. She was good enough at - well - everything, that she spent her time scribbling in her sketchbook.  
I noticed she was working on the symbols on the cup of Raziel's statue. She seemed curious enough to explore it further, which I admired, but I doubted she would come to anything.  
We were halfway through December. Christmas was looming near, and the weather had done nothing but worsen. We had got frost, sleet, hail - there had been forecasts for snow next week. I was perplexed, but not overly bothered. It was just the weather after all.

Exam week drew to a close, and I suspected both having done exceptionally well. As a celebration for the hellish days being over, our group of friends went out for dinner, and got back ridiculously late. They all went drunkenly up to bed, leaving Clary and I alone on the steps of the academy.  
"So," she said, cheeks flushed from the cold, "off to bed?"  
"I ought to," I replied, "but I'm afraid that you would be scared in the dark."  
"Please, I can beat anyone."  
"I _have_ been getting better, you know. I almost got you, last time."  
"Almost," Clary said. The golden orb of the streetlamp lit her up from the side, picking out her every feature.  
I stood up, and pulled her to her feet. Her mitten-clad hand was small in mine. "I have something to show you," I said. "Hurry, or we'll miss it."

Clary

We ran haphazardly up the stairs to the top floor, hands linked all the while. The door to the roof cracked open before us, and a gust of freezing air pushed its way into my neck. I stepped out onto the concrete, and looked over the dark sea. The waves seemed slower than usual, as if they had been mixed with oil. It was calming. Stars spilled across the sky like holes in a cloth. My breath huffed out in front of me, and Jace dropped my hand.  
At one end of the roof was a vast greenhouse. It took up most of the space, and stood like a palace of ice against the dark sky. Jace glanced at his watch, and beckoned towards the glass house. The door made no sound as it opened. I stepped through, pulling off the heavy layers I wore on my back. My jaw dropped to the floor.  
The greenhouse was - _was it?_ - larger on the inside, or so it seemed. Plants, creepers, vines, bushes, flowers, absolutely everywhere. The air was filled with the fresh smell of earth and grass after rain. A narrow platform ran around the sides of the greenhouse, with short staircases leading into different collections of plants. A metal spiral stair coiled up into a second floor, with a walkway similar to the one on the ground. Though I could detect no source of light, the entire greenhouse seemed illuminated from the inside. I didn't remember having seen any kind of light from the outside, but I put that thought out of mind.  
"Whoah," was all I could find to say.  
Jace laughed under his breath. "It's something," he said. He checked his watch again. I felt his hand close around my wrist, and let myself be led towards the metal staircase. Our feet clanged loudly against the steps, so I took off my shoes and socks. It was warm enough in here to do it. I found myself wearing nothing now but jeans and a shirt, and wasn't cold. Jace had peeled off enough layers to the same. I sat a few steps above him, and he stood leaning against the balustrade.  
Conversation was easy, and we laughed. After a moment, Jace held up his hand, and told me to stand. He kept his hand in mine. "Look," he said quietly. "And listen."  
I heard the distant _bong_ of a church tower, ringing midnight. Light suddenly spilled from all corners of the greenhouse. I couldn't tell where it came from, but it lifted my spirits and brought a smile to my face. A sweet fragrance, one I could not name, filled the greenhouse.  
And suddenly, hundreds of flowers unfolded, like eyes opening, like lips parting to say a kind word. They were purple and white, with petals like lilies. They were ablaze of light. Their buds seemed full of sun. I laughed, astonished.  
When the clock stopped chiming, the flowers folded back into themselves, and the light, and the smell, faded. I turned to Jace. "What was that?"  
"They're the midnight flowers," he said, golden eyes bearing into mine. "They bloom every night like this."  
"That's incredible. I've never heard of them before."  
"You don't read enough," he said.  
"Probably not. I never got many books for birthdays."  
"No? What did you get?"  
"I asked for games and bikes and fighting gear," I said. Jace raised an eyebrow.  
"Not bad, all things considered."  
"What does that mean?"  
"Well, I got a hunting falcon for my birthday," he said, grinning.  
"Wait - an actual falcon? Is your family rich?"  
"You could say that. It's actually quite a good story, if you want to hear it." I nodded, and settled into the stairwell. "My father gave me the falcon and told me to make it obedient. I was told to keep the bird blind, but I, uh, couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I touched and stroked its wings until it trusted me. It cost me a few cuts on my fingers, but I tamed it to perfection. I took it to my father, expecting him to be proud of what I'd done. He said to me, 'I told you to make it obedient. Instead, you taught it to love you. You didn't tame it, you broke it.' So he took the bird, and snapped its neck."  
I put a hand to my mouth. "That's awful," I said.  
He smiled sadly. "To love is to destroy. That's all I need to know." There was a moment of silence. "We should go," he said, his face dangerously close to mine. There was a smell of winter on him. I nodded, and Jace turned away to walk down the stairs. My heart sank, and my feet were leaden as I plodded down after him.  
So distracted was I that I missed a step, and skidded into Jace's arms. He smiled crookedly. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, and was about to pull away, when his lips fell onto mine, and I was lost.  
It seemed he hadn't wanted to kiss me, at first. His mouth was hard on mine. But he softened, put both arms around me, and pulled me against him. I could feel the beating of his heart.  
I lifted my hands from his shoulder and tangled them in his hair, feeling the soft strands fall over my fingers. There was a rushing sound in my ears, like wings, and Jace pulled away from me, though he kept his arms around my waist.  
"Don't panic, but we're being watched."  
I turned my head. Perched on the branch of a nearby tree was a dark crow, eyeing us beadily. "Who's that?"  
"That's Hodge's bird. You know, the headmaster."  
"He has a bird?"  
"It goes everywhere with him. Where Hugo is, Hodge is never too far behind. It's a shame - we were having such a scintillating conversation." I flicked his shoulder with a finger.  
We walked back down the stairs, hand in hand. I pulled every layer of my clothing back on, and was going to put on my hat, when Jace took it from my hands. "A rainbow beanie. Impressive."  
"It's a _brilliant_ hat, Jace," I laughed. He nodded.  
"Brilliant is the word," he said, and tucked it onto my head. He pressed his finger onto my nose. "Boop," he laughed. I did the same to him, and he chuckled.  
There was a loud crash, and a scream. I turned around, my senses sharpening by their own accord. I could smell smoke, and fire, and another, sickening scent that I could not identify. More screaming echoed through the school, and under that - growls and animalistic shrieks. I turned towards Jace, who was already taking off his winter clothes again. I did the same, to give me more freedom of movement. As soon as undressed, we ran down into the school, to the bottom floor, where havoc was apparently being wreaked. We stopped by a dark classroom, which stored weapons. I leapt into the fray.

Jace

It was hell at its most raw. Creatures from the deepest confines of imagination ran amok among the students. There were bodies lying on the ground, covered in blood. Fires had started in some of the rooms, and ceilings had caved into themselves.  
Clary and I pulled knives out of our belts, long and thin. The creatures, those surreal creatures of darkness, launched themselves at us. I swept my hand aside, sweeping my blade across the throat of the thing. Slick, black blood poured from the wound, and a high scream like none other heard before by human ears pierced the air. The creature twitched and shuddered, collapsing in on itself, and disappeared, leaving nothing but a black stain on the floor.  
"Clary!" I shouted.  
"Jace, I'm here!" Thank _God_.  
"They're not difficult to kill," I cried, "if you get them in the right place."  
"We can't _kill _them! I can't do that!"  
I turned to her, and put my hands on her shoulders. "They've killed our students," I said. Fear clicked into place on her face.  
"But I can't kill anything," she whispered. "I can only kick."  
"First time for everything."  
"Wait - you've done this before?"  
"Now is not the time to question my parents' responsibility. Come on."

The battle was long and difficult. The creatures kept coming, and though I killed countless numbers of them, they seemed not to disappear. It was near on impossible to get rid of them. They took so many students, young and old. Teachers, as well.  
Some memory stirred inside me. This situation felt familiar, too familiar for it to be coincidence. The movements of my body against the creatures felt altogether too natural. This wasn't normal.  
When the last of the monsters had dissolved, Clary and I went to count the dead. There were sixty of them, out of nearly seven hundred students.  
Alec, Isabelle, Sebastian and the others had all survived. They had fought, too. I knew that Alec and Isabelle had found the chilling familiarity in fighting as well, because they held weapons in their hands like extensions of their limbs. I said nothing to them about it, only "I'm glad you're safe."

Hodge came down from the greenhouse with Hugo on his shoulder and a look of utmost disappointment on his face. "Already?" he cried.  
He was a man of short stature, with grey hair and grey eyes. He wore a sharp tweed suit, and although the air was full of rubble, not a speck landed on him, or his bird.  
"Hodge," I said. "What happened?"  
"Yes, indeed?" he uttered under his breath. "This wasn't meant to happen until later ... never mind, it's done now." He patted Hugo on the head, and he cawed. "Right! Who survived?"

Clary

My skin burned with the black blood of the creatures, and I had cuts all over my arms and legs. At least I was alive, and Sebastian. We were OK.  
Hodge helped up those who were injured, and laid the dead to rest. He reassured the terrified and the mourning.  
He was queer, and somewhat intimidating, but he seemed academic and wise. I trusted him without question.  
Though it was difficult to see, we were led to an assembly hall, where Hodge stepped up to the stage and spoke.  
"Demons," he said. "Those creatures that overran our school only hours ago were demons. Don't," he raised his hands to stop protest, "question it. I assure you that this is the truth. Demons have existed across time in their varying forms. They travel in groups and like to attack that which is powerful. You are all," his gaze shifted around the room, "very powerful. Each one of you has a skill, a talent, if you will, for which you were asked to come to this school. It is time to put those skills to use. You will be sorted into groups according to these abilities and sent to eliminate colonies of demons."  
"Hodge!" shouted a student, "that's forced conscription! You're turning us into soldiers?"  
"Shadowhunters," said Hodge calmly. "Each of you is descended from a Shadowhunter family. If you weren't, none of you would be able to see the demons. Your families are well aware of this threat. They agreed to letting you do this. Though it shouldn't have come so early. We expected the attack after the Christmas holidays. Your parents would have told you over the break."  
"Wait, you knew this would happen?"  
"There was nothing I could do to stop it. You were not meant to have been thrown into this. You would have been prepared, at least. Some kind of warning. I would have helped you. I did not know the attack would be so swift, or so harsh, or so numerous. We expected twenty demons at most, not two hundred. I am genuinely sorry."  
"But we aren't killers, any of us. We aren't ready for this," a young voice said quietly. It was a girl of maybe only thirteen, redheaded like me. She looked frightened. There was a great gash on her shoulder, that bled steadily. She had her hand pressed against it.  
"You do not necessarily have to fight. Your talents might go elsewhere. You will wait until you are older. Come here, you are hurt."  
The girl came up to the stage, and Hodge knelt in front of her. From his pocket, he drew a short rod with a sharp nib. "This may sting a little," he said, and pressed the tip of it onto her arm. It glowed blue, and the girl winced. Hodge drew a symbol on her skin that I felt I ought to remember. It irked me.  
When he took away the rod from her arm, I saw the skin stitch itself back together. It was a healing rune, I realised. _How do I know that?_ I had never seen it before in my life, I was sure.  
"Come," Hodge said.

In the plane that is our dimension, there are ripples and fold in the matter around us. These folds are connected. On them are built portals. One such a gateway was built in the school. Through it jumped legions and legions of students, all being transported to locations where they would be trained. Most of the younger children were sent to Idris, the Shadowhunter nation, which apparently lay between Switzerland and France.  
Jace, Alec, Isabelle and I were sent back to New York. Sebastian had decided to stay in California, and had hugged me fiercely before joining his group. "Be safe, and stay out of trouble."  
"Fat chance," I said, "I am trouble."  
"I love you, firecracker."  
And I jumped through the portal.

**Review? Pleasepleaseplease? Thank you :)**


	7. The Institute

**Hello hello again, my dears :D sorry it's been a while, Christmas and New Year (happy of both, by the way) denied me access to the internet. Anywayyyyy**

**OK - Cassandra Clare owns these characters (lucky woman) and so on. Drop in a review, please?**

****Clary

I ran through the Institute, my breath catching in my throat. Though my footsteps made little sound, Jace found me anyway. I cannoned into him, out of breath.

"Clary?" he asked, curving an eyebrow. "Are you all right?"

"I can read the runes. All of them," I added. "I was in the library just now and I found this book full of symbols -"

"The Grey Book," Jace nodded.

"Yes, and I recognised each one of them. I can read them all."

"No, you can't. Can you?"

"I can."

"Go and find Hodge," he said, speeding off towards the library.

"That's what I was doing," I said through my teeth. I was running so fast that I tripped over Church, who was sleeping, conveniently, in the middle of the hallway. He harrumphed grumpily.

"Hodge?" I asked.

Church dragged himself up from the floor, mustering as much irritation as was possible for a cat to do. He slowly led me away to an office on the top floor of the Institute.

"Thank you," I said aside as he sauntered off to another corner of floor to lie on. I still couldn't quite get used to having to treat a cat exactly like a human, even less a grumpy one.

My fist shook as I raised it to knock on the heavy oaken door of the office.

"Come in," came Hodge's voice.

The handle turned soundlessly.

"Ah, Clary," he said pleasantly. "Do sit down. How can I help you?"

The office was dark, lined on all sides with bookcases. These were stuffed with books with unusual titles: _Hiding From Mundanes;_ _Why Angels Don't Come to Earth_; _Lilith, the Mother of Demons_, among others. There was only one window. I sat down in the high-backed chair facing the desk.

"Hodge, what's the Grey Book?"

"I knew you would come across it! How do I explain?" he said to himself. "It is a collection of all the runes known to Shadowhunters. Each rune is a symbol of power, and represents a faculty, ability, or skill that is bestowed upon the Shadowhunter that wears it. It is a book that is crucial to the education of a budding Shadowhunter. I will teach you the runes, though it is hard -"

"I can read them."

Hodge looked up from Hugo's feathers, that he was stroking methodically. His eyebrows shot up his forehead and his mouth went thin.

"Can you?"

Jace suddenly burst through the door, the Grey Book in hand. He dropped it on the desk - Hugo cawed irritably - and said, "yes. I think so, at least."

Hodge pulled the Book towards himself and flicked it open. He turned the pages, settling for a rune I had not seen.

"What's this one?" he asked. He steepled his fingers under his chin and watched as I turned the Book back at myself.

I stared at the rune, seeing its lines and its curves, the sweeping arcs of black ink on the page. It took only a moment for me to recognise it.

"Agility," I murmured to myself.

Jace laughed under his breath. "Jesus," he muttered.

Hodge leaned back in his chair, eyeing me curiously. "Indeed."

"Why -" I started.

"This creates a lot of questions, does it not?" Hodge said to Hugo. "You may leave," he waved a hand at Jace and I. "I must speak with the Clave. Go and train, read, anything, but do not go into the city."

As Jace led me back towards the library, we were silent. I saw the runes on his arms and recognised them all. My head pounded, so I looked away.

"How is it that you're not freaked out by suddenly remembering everything?" I asked.

Jace shrugged. "For some reason it feels like it was always there, I just didn't pay attention to it. I'm more interested in how it is that you know all the runes in the Grey Book without studying them, ever."

"I have no idea, really," I said. "I was reading and I found the Book, and I just knew all of them. This one," I pointed at the rune on the back of his right hand, "is a Voyance rune, right?"

Jace nodded, and pulled back his sleeve. "And this one?" He pointed at a Mark on the slope of his bicep.

"Speed."

We were outside his room. Without noticing what I was doing, I followed him inside. He sat down on his bed, and I sat across from him, cross-legged.

"Courage, Soundless, Clarity," I rattled off as he pointed out more and more Marks on his arms.

"More?" he asked. I nodded.

Jace pulled of his shirt, and grinned crookedly. I tried not to blush, and failed.

"What's this one?" he indicated one in the centre of his chest. It was exactly like the symbol I had drawn in the painting I had had to do of him. It seemed almost a lifetime away.

I rolled my eyes. "That's the Angelic rune."

"Exactly."

"What does it do?"

"It marks you out as a Shadowhunter. It's usually the last, or second to last permanent rune anyone gets."

"Put your shirt back on, Jace," I said, looking down at my hands.

"Do I intimidate you with my perfect body?"

"Nah," I smirked. "You're not intimidating at all."

Jace rose to his knees and leaned forwards, putting his hands on the bed around me. His face was so close to mine that I could barely focus on the molten gold colour of his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," I said, my voice warping the word.

Jace chuckled, and leaned back on his heels. "Of course."

I walked back to the door, and turned to say, "I'm going to train with Isabelle for a while. See you later."

"Right," Isabelle said, hands on hips and eyes blazing, "you need to get into your head that demons are made to be killed."

"I -"

"No," she interrupted, "listen."

She turned to a mannequin of some four-legged creature with horns. "Looks like a demon. Right?"

"Right."

Next to the model of the demon was one of a human. "Looks like a human."

"Yes."

"Imagine that the demon could somehow take the form of a human. As if they were only pretending to be one."

"OK."

"Does that make you like them less?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Put it this way - what's your opinion on people who are fake? Like, they pretend to be something they're not?"

"I don't like them."

"It's kind of the same concept. Granted, it's as far from that as is possible, actually, it's a really bad example, but it's sort of the same."

I laughed.

"How did you learn not to be afraid of killing?"

"I grew up with it, really. And I try to remember that it's either them, or me, and the ones I love. Take Jace - his father was murdered by men who worked for a dark force. He wants nothing more than to go after them, and avenge his father. Although vengeance is useless as a fire to burn on, it allows him to have a drive. If you think of the demons as things, creatures, that kill other people, it makes it easier to kill them."

"But they're _alive_," I said weakly, though the image of demons killing students at school crept into my mind.

"Not really. They exist in Hell. And when you practice hunting on me or Jace, it's really only learning to defend yourself from demons taking human form. It's not like you're trying to kill us, is it?"

"Oh." I realised now what Isabelle meant. "I think I know."

Isabelle nodded, and dragged the mannequin of the demon away, leaving only the humanoid behind. "Off you go," she said.

Jace

Clary grew stronger and stronger over the next few weeks, in body and in mind. It was visible. The time she didn't spend in the library was taken up by weapons training with Isabelle and Alec. Alec didn't like her. I couldn't tell why, but every time she came into the room, or her name came up, his eyes looked stormy and angry. I couldn't understand - Clary was without a doubt one of the kindest and most persevering, intelligent, witty, funny, person to be around. She had a temper, of course, but what was life without any fun?

It was strange, however, that she should be able to read runes. Hodge was perplexed, so much so that he decided he must organise a trip to the Academy in California.

I insisted we all go, and so we were all given a ticket through the portal. Isabelle and Alec had their interests in going, I had my own, and Clary wanted to see her brother.

The day arrived, and we all stood before the doors of the portal in the library. Hodge looked at us, sighed deeply, and leapt through.

The surface of the portal rippled, as if it were made of water.

One by one, we jumped into the portal. Clary held my hand, as she didn't know how to work it, and we landed safely outside the portal in the Academy.

"You have four hours here," said Hodge, "and then we return to the Institute." He walked briskly off and away into the depths of the school.

It was eerily empty. No school bells ringing, no upbeat chatter of students in the hallways, not even the harried footsteps of a latecomer. There was no sound.

We walked through the hallways, the four of us peering into every room, looking for people. We found no one. Only when we reached the gym did we find any sign of inhabitation in the last week and a half. There were sleeping bags strewn all over the floor, bags lined up against the walls with their contents spilling out, and stacks of food and clothing on the bleachers.

"We should wait here," I said. Clary nodded.

"Actually, Isabelle and I need to do something. We'll see you in a few hours, Jace," said Alec. He and his sister left the gymnasium.

Clary and I waited a long time, almost an hour, for anyone to come back. When they did, it was in a clatter. The doors whipped open, and dozens of black-clad teenagers, bearing weapons, spilled inside. They traipsed to a long trough full of water at one end of the gym, and began cleaning up their blades, all the while chatting merrily.

Clary stood up from the bleachers we sat on, and walked slowly over to the group.

"Sebastian?" she called, standing at a distance. His white-blond head turned from the trough, and grinned. He headed over to her. She went in for a hug, but he pushed her back sternly.

They spoke for a moment, and Sebastian saw me. He roared happily, and pulled me into an embrace. Over his shoulder, I saw Clary, her expression closed.

"Jace, man! What's up?"

"Oh, you know, recently remembering that I've been doing stuff like this all my life, the usual."

"Seriously?"

"Isabelle, Alec, and me."

"Whoah."

Conversation flowed, jumping over topics such as training, demons, and, interestingly enough, who was at the top of the football league.

"Where were you guys just now?" I asked.

"Hunting trip. Demons are collecting around the school now more than ever. We need to keep them at bay. Take him to the bay!" he shouted at a new group of people coming in through the door, carrying a boy whose face was covered in blood. "We're busy. What've you guys been up to?"

"Seeing as Isabelle, Alec, and I are all certified Shadowhunters, we're just training Clary up."

"Are you kidding? You're actually a Shadowhunter? Marks, and everything?"

I nodded, and pulled back my sleeve. Sebastian's eyes widened. He whistled low. "Is Clary being Marked yet?"

"No, I'm not," she said, coming over from where she spoke to Aline. She had stayed back in California, while the rest of their group of friends were in Idris. "Thanks for asking me," she added bitterly. "Listen, Jace, I need to pick some stuff up. I'll be back."

Clary

I packed angrily, shoving clothes and belongings into a suitcase pell-mell. How could Sebastian say that to me? I only tried to hug him.

_"I ought to tell you, Clary," he said, "there's more happening than you know. You're not old enough to understand them. I'll - is that Jace?"_

I picked up my laptop, and lay it flat among the mess of clothes in the case. My phone beeped. Taking it in my shaking hands, I saw that I had twenty missed calls, from Simon, my mother, Emma, and others. I cleared the history and chucked it in with the rest of my possessions.

Although it was nice to see my dormitory again, it didn't feel like mine. It was like an anchor that wasn't connected to the ship - something that tied me down to reality, but wasn't mine at all.

I looked out of the window that faced the sea, and gasped. The waves were frozen solid. Crests of ice rose and fell, without moving. The air before the school shimmered, as if glamoured. And behind the warding charm, were droves of demons, swarming black and dark.

**Once again, thanks for reading, sorry it took so damn long :) Review?**


	8. There and Back Again

**Hello hello again, my dears :D sorry it's been a while, Christmas and New Year (happy of both, by the way) denied me access to the internet. Anywayyyyy  
****OK - Cassandra Clare owns these characters (lucky woman) and so on. Drop in a review, please?**

Clary

I ran through the Institute, my breath catching in my throat. Though my footsteps made little sound, Jace found me anyway. I cannoned into him, out of breath.  
"Clary?" he asked, curving an eyebrow. "Are you all right?"  
"I can read the runes. All of them," I added. "I was in the library just now and I found this book full of symbols -"  
"The Grey Book," Jace nodded.  
"Yes, and I recognised each one of them. I can read them all."  
"No, you can't. Can you?"  
"I can."  
"Go and find Hodge," he said, speeding off towards the library.  
"That's what I was doing," I said through my teeth. I was running so fast that I tripped over Church, who was sleeping, conveniently, in the middle of the hallway. He harrumphed grumpily.  
"Hodge?" I asked.  
Church dragged himself up from the floor, mustering as much irritation as was possible for a cat to do. He slowly led me away to an office on the top floor of the Institute.  
"Thank you," I said aside as he sauntered off to another corner of floor to lie on. I still couldn't quite get used to having to treat a cat exactly like a human, even less a grumpy one.  
My fist shook as I raised it to knock on the heavy oaken door of the office.  
"Come in," came Hodge's voice.  
The handle turned soundlessly.  
"Ah, Clary," he said pleasantly. "Do sit down. How can I help you?"  
The office was dark, lined on all sides with bookcases. These were stuffed with books with unusual titles: _Hiding From Mundanes;_ _Why Angels Don't Come to Earth_; _Lilith, the Mother of Demons_, among others. There was only one window. I sat down in the high-backed chair facing the desk.  
"Hodge, what's the Grey Book?"  
"I knew you would come across it! How do I explain?" he said to himself. "It is a collection of all the runes known to Shadowhunters. Each rune is a symbol of power, and represents a faculty, ability, or skill that is bestowed upon the Shadowhunter that wears it. It is a book that is crucial to the education of a budding Shadowhunter. I will teach you the runes, though it is hard -"  
"I can read them."  
Hodge looked up from Hugo's feathers, that he was stroking methodically. His eyebrows shot up his forehead and his mouth went thin.  
"Can you?"  
Jace suddenly burst through the door, the Grey Book in hand. He dropped it on the desk - Hugo cawed irritably - and said, "yes. I think so, at least."  
Hodge pulled the Book towards himself and flicked it open. He turned the pages, settling for a rune I had not seen.  
"What's this one?" he asked. He steepled his fingers under his chin and watched as I turned the Book back at myself.  
I stared at the rune, seeing its lines and its curves, the sweeping arcs of black ink on the page. It took only a moment for me to recognise it.  
"Agility," I murmured to myself.  
Jace laughed under his breath. "Jesus," he muttered.  
Hodge leaned back in his chair, eyeing me curiously. "Indeed."  
"Why -" I started.  
"This creates a lot of questions, does it not?" Hodge said to Hugo. "You may leave," he waved a hand at Jace and I. "I need to speak with the Clave. Go and train, read, anything, but do not go into the city."  
As Jace led me back towards the library, we were silent. I saw the runes on his arms and recognised them all. My head pounded, so I looked away.  
"How is it that you're not freaked out by suddenly remembering everything?" I asked.  
Jace shrugged. "For some reason it feels like it was always there, I just didn't pay attention to it. I'm more interested in how it is that you know all the runes in the Grey Book without studying them, ever."  
"I have no idea, really," I said. "I was reading and I found the Book, and I just knew all of them. This one," I pointed at the rune on the back of his right hand, "is a Voyance rune, right?"  
Jace nodded, and pulled back his sleeve. "And this one?" He pointed at a Mark on the slope of his bicep.  
"Speed."  
We were outside his room. Without noticing what I was doing, I followed him inside. He sat down on his bed, and I sat across from him, cross-legged.  
"Courage, Soundless, Clarity," I rattled off as he pointed out more and more Marks on his arms.  
"More?" he asked. I nodded.  
Jace pulled of his shirt, and grinned crookedly. I tried not to blush, and failed.  
"What's this one?" he indicated one in the centre of his chest. It was exactly like the symbol I had drawn in the painting I had had to do of him. It seemed almost a lifetime away.  
I rolled my eyes. "That's the Angelic rune."  
"Exactly."  
"What does it do?"  
"It marks you out as a Shadowhunter. It's usually the last, or second to last rune anyone gets."  
"Put your shirt back on, Jace," I said, looking down at my hands.  
"Do I intimidate you with my perfect body?"  
"Nah," I smirked. "You're not intimidating at all."  
Jace rose to his knees and leaned forwards, putting his hands on the bed around me. His face was so close to mine that I could barely focus on the molten gold colour of his eyes. "Are you sure?"  
"Positive," I said, my voice warping the word.  
Jace chuckled, and leaned back on his heels. "Of course."  
I walked back to the door, and turned to say, "I'm going to train with Isabelle for a while. See you later."

"Right," Isabelle said, hands on hips and eyes blazing, "you need to get into your head that demons are made to be killed."  
"I -"  
"No," she interrupted, "listen."  
She turned to a mannequin of some four-legged creature with horns. "Looks like a demon. Right?"  
"Right."  
Next to the model of the demon was one of a human. "Looks like a human."  
"Yes."  
"Imagine that the demon could somehow take the form of a human. As if they were only pretending to be one."  
"OK."  
"Does that make you like them less?"  
"Yeah," I said.  
"Put it this way - what's your opinion on people who are fake? Like, they pretend to be something they're not?"  
"I don't like them."  
"It's kind of the same concept. Granted, it's as far from that as is possible, actually, it's a really bad example, but it's sort of the same."  
I laughed.  
"How did you learn not to be afraid of killing?"  
"I grew up with it, really. And I try to remember that it's either them, or me, and the ones I love. Take Jace - his father was murdered by men who worked for a dark force. He wants nothing more than to go after them, and avenge his father. Although vengeance is useless as a fire to burn on, it allows him to have a drive. If you think of the demons as things, creatures, that kill other people, it makes it easier to kill them."  
"But they're _alive_," I said weakly, though the image of demons killing students at school crept into my mind.  
"Not really. They exist in Hell. And when you practice hunting on me or Jace, it's really only learning to defend yourself from demons taking human form. It's not like you're trying to kill us, is it?"  
"Oh." I realised now what Isabelle meant. "I think I know."  
Isabelle nodded, and dragged the mannequin of the demon away, leaving only the humanoid behind. "Off you go," she said.

Jace

Clary grew stronger and stronger over the next few weeks, in body and in mind. It was visible. The time she didn't spend in the library was taken up by weapons training with Isabelle and Alec. Alec didn't like her. I couldn't tell why, but every time she came into the room, or her name came up, his eyes looked stormy and angry. I couldn't understand - Clary was without a doubt one of the kindest and most persevering, intelligent, witty, funny, person to be around. She had a temper, of course, but what was life without any fun?  
It was strange, however, that she should be able to read runes. Hodge was perplexed, so much so that he decided he must organise a trip to the Academy in California.  
I insisted we all go, and so we were all given a ticket through the portal. Isabelle and Alec had their interests in going, I had my own, and Clary wanted to see her brother.

The day arrived, and we all stood before the doors of the portal in the library. Hodge looked at us, sighed deeply, and leapt through.  
The surface of the portal rippled, as if it were made of water.  
One by one, we jumped into the portal. Clary held my hand, as she didn't know how to work it, and we landed safely outside the portal in the Academy.  
"You have four hours here," said Hodge, "and then we return to the Institute." He walked briskly off and away into the depths of the school.  
It was eerily empty. No school bells ringing, no upbeat chatter of students in the hallways, not even the harried footsteps of a latecomer. There was no sound.  
We walked through the hallways, the four of us peering into every room, looking for people. We found no one. Only when we reached the gym did we find any sign of inhabitation in the last week and a half. There were sleeping bags strewn all over the floor, bags lined up against the walls with their contents spilling out, and stacks of food and clothing on the bleachers.  
"We'll wait here, then," I said. Clary nodded.  
"Actually, Isabelle and I have something to do," said Alec. "We'll see you in a few hours, Jace."  
Clary and I were left alone. We waited for a long time, almost an hour, before anyone came back. Suddenly the doors of the gymnasium banged open, and dozens of black leather-clad teenagers spilled through, all holding weapons. They congregated towards a trough full of water at one end of the gym, and began to clean their blades, all the while talking loudly.  
I stood up, and pulled Clary up next to me. She approached the group quietly, standing aside.  
"Sebastian?" she called nervously. The white-blond head turned, and grinned. He pulled away from the trough and walked towards her. Though Clary went for a hug, he pushed her away.  
Sebastian saw me, and came over. He pulled me into an embrace. Over his shoulder, I saw Clary, her expression closed.  
"Hey, what've you been up to?" he asked.  
"Oh, you know, aside from recovering lost memories of a life of Shadowhunter training, nothing much."  
"Are you serious?"  
"Isabelle, Alec, and me."  
"So you're Marked, and everything?"  
I pulled back my sleeve, and Sebastian let out a low whistle. "Brilliant."  
Conversation flowed, jumping over topics such as training, demons, and, oddly enough, which football team was at the top of the league this season.  
"Where were you all just now?" I asked.  
"We were on a hunting trip, actually. Demons are assembling around the school. Take him to the bay," he shouted at a new group of people coming through the door. They bore a boy whose pale face was covered in blood. "You?"  
"Hodge isn't letting us loose on the city, and as the three of us are already part of the local Clave, we've just been training Clary."  
"She isn't Marked, too, is she?"  
"No, I'm not," Clary said, arms crossed over her chest. "But thanks for asking. Jace, I'm going to pick up some stuff. I'll be back."

Clary

I packed angrily, shoving clothing and belongings into a suitcase without folding them. How could Sebastian say that to me? I had tried to hug him, that was all - and now he was further away than I had thought he could be.  
Relief had come over me from seeing him alive, but now I only wanted him gone.  
_"There's no point explaining the new situation to you, you wouldn't understand. You're not intell- is that Jace?"  
_I picked up my laptop, and lay it flat across the top of the clothes. My phone beeped as I turned it on, and my stomach turned. Twenty-three missed calls, from Simon, my mother, Emma, and others. I hit the _off _button and tossed it pell-mell into the bag.  
It was calming to be back in 114A, although it was like an anchor that wasn't tied to a ship. It was something to connect me to reality, though it wasn't mine anymore.  
Locking the door behind me for what I took to be the last time, I trudged down the hallway, bag in hand. There was no one around. _Why not?  
_I made my way through the building to the forbidden corridor that I had encountered on my first day.  
The first door was locked. Strangely enough, I had thought to bring a stele with me to the School. I pulled it out of my pocket, and over the doorknob, drew the Opening rune. The door clicked open.  
It was a room that was full of light reflecting on every surface. So bright was it that my eyes hurt simply from looking at it. I shut the door, the ache behind my temples becoming too harsh.  
In the next two rooms there were libraries, filled with books whose titles were even more engrossing than Hodge's. I longed to read them, but they seemed unquiet, not calm as the ones in the Institute.  
The third door down - only two to go - was full of weapons and angry-looking blades. This, I thought, must have been where Jace and the rest of us found our weapons on the night of the attack. I hadn't noticed that we were in this corridor, or even this side of the School.  
The second-to-last room was an office. On the shelves, however, were not books, or files, or cabinets, but rather bottles and jars full of potions and small, floating forms trapped in formaldehyde. It smelled foul, but it was fascinating.  
The last room was empty. Yet the air felt prickly and the hair on my arms rose. In the centre of the floor, a trapdoor. I tried stepping over the threshold, and found my way blocked by a rune on the floor. I thought that I had best not force it.  
And so I turned around and went back down the hallway, to the gymnasium, lugging my suitcase behind me.  
I looked out of a window overlooking the ocean, and gasped. The water was ice - frozen solid. Crests and valleys formed over the horizon, forming a choppy white landscape that didn't move. The air in front of the Academy shimmered, as if protected by a glamour. Beyond the warding charm, swarmed droves of demons, dark and fierce.

**REVIOOOOOOO?**


	9. The Honest Truth

**Hello again, everyone! As I've finally resolved this issue with my 'Manage Stories' page and can actually access the publishing area again, I can actually DO THINGS! -excited squeal- OK, here we go.  
I take no credit whatsoever for the contents and characters mentioned in this story, all rights go to Cassandra Clare and her publishing team, etc., etc., etc. Do I have to do this every time? :)  
One last thing - I recently wrote a bit of poetry concerning TMI, so if you want to check that out, you should go here: /s/10008424/1/He-saw-her  
Thanks :D**

Jace

"I need to get some things sorted, Sebastian, I'll come back in an hour, maybe. See you in a bit." I left the gymnasium and went to our dormitory. It smelled the same as I remembered, and was messy on one half of the apartment - Sebastian's - and pin-neat on the other. I refused to let things get lost.  
A suitcase was packed quickly and efficiently. I explored the deepest confines of the cupboards, searching. There had to be _something_, at least, some evidence of my life before.  
My fingers dragged over the surface of the cupboard. There was a click, and I found a small compartment locked away in the back of the wardrobe. Its door swung open with a creak, revealing a cubic safe. In it, a box. I pulled it out and sat down on the floor.  
Inside the box there was a plethora of small objects. The first was a folded photograph of a manor in a green field. The colours were faded with age, so the sky was grey and the white stone walls of the house were yellow. The grass was just as vibrant, however - almost the colour of Clary's eyes. This was my home, where I had lived with my father. I had been happy there. I had learned so much. Every day, a new lesson, a new symphony of information that I could use.  
There was a small coil of electrum wire, a bag of coins, a knife, and a ring. In the back of my mind something fell into place as I put it on. I packed the box, shut the safe, and stood up. I was myself now, completely. Nothing was missing.

Clary came bowling into the gym, out of breath and eyes wild. She ran over to Sebastian and I, dropping her suitcase as she went, and whispered, "demons."  
I stood up sharply and took her by the shoulders. "Tell me exactly what you saw. Now!"  
Pulling the hair away from her face, she said, "it just so happens that the ocean is frozen solid for miles around and there's a warding around the school and right in front of the warding there's hundreds of thousands of demons trying to get in." She took a deep, shuddering breath, and went on. "As well as that I saw a few people, maybe only ten, going to the ward. It looked like they were talking to the demons."  
I turned immediately to Sebastian. "What's going on, Seb?"  
He looked affronted. "I didn't send them! We've been sending small groups of trainees to take down the small pockets of demons that breach the defences of the ward, and into town, as well. There's always demons there. But not to communicate with them!"  
"How old are these 'trainees'? How much experience do they have?" Clary snarled angrily. "How many people have you told to be 'taken to the bay'? Some bay that is, I saw it, it's more like a graveyard for children." Her voice shook as she spoke.  
"It's not my fault, I swear!"  
"WHO THE HELL IS IN CHARGE, THEN?"  
There was silence in the entire gym. Everyone was listening. Sebastian looked around, and said quietly, "I don't ... I don't know. They're in Idris right now."  
"You must be joking."  
"Every week there's a new person here to train us. They change them up, I don't know why, it doesn't make sense but it happens anyway."  
I groaned. Fabulous. Why was it that everywhere I went, trouble sprung up? Maybe trouble was dying to see my face. It wouldn't be the first time.  
"I'll tell Hodge we have to stay here," I said.  
"No!" Sebastian said loudly. "He can't know."  
"Know what?" asked Isabelle demandingly, walking into the gym. "And who," she added, "has been making treaties with demons?" On the end of her arm, a boy whimpered.  
"Please let go of my ear," he whined.  
"Not until you tell them what you did," she said in a singsong voice. Only Isabelle could make that sound threatening.  
"Isabelle, let him go," said Clary.  
"No, no," I said, smirking, "this is entertaining."  
She rolled her eyes at me.  
"I was with a couple of my friends," started the boy. "We'd been sent to deal with a bunch of demons that got through. And they started talking to us, turning into the faces of people we knew, like, our parents, and stuff. I don't know h-"  
"How they did it?" Isabelle interrupted. "They're Eidolon demons. They can read you."  
"Oh - er - OK. Anyway - they were telling us that they knew where Valentine was, and that we shouldn't kill them because they could lead us to him."  
I coughed through the words I was dying to utter. _Those bastards always say that. They think you'll spare their miserable lives._  
"Valentine?" asked Clary. "Who's that?"  
"The most sought-after Shadowhunter of our time," Sebastian said. "He's dead, though."  
"What did he do?"  
"Exactly what this kid is doing. Talking to, and allying himself with demons," I said.  
"But we weren't _allying_ ourselves with them!" the boy pleaded. "I only took my friends back because I wanted to find out more! Let _go _of me!" he hissed at Isabelle, who finally picked her fingers off his ear.  
"You know what they say," I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "it's the gateway drug."  
"Oh, and Valentine also made a stand against Downworlders everywhere," Isabelle said. "Thought you ought to know."  
Clary raised an eyebrow. "Downworlders?"  
"You know, the scum of our world to everyone but themselves? Vampires, werewolves, fairies, pixies, and so on, and so forth. An absolute stick up the ass to deal with."  
"That was classy, Jace," she said, though I could hear the smile in her voice.  
"I put the ass in class, Clary. Common knowledge."  
"ANYWAY," said Isabelle, "Alec is rounding up the rest of his friends."  
"How did you find them?" asked Sebastian.  
"We wanted to see whether or not our hunting skills were as good as we remembered them to be. Rest assured," she added smugly. "We saw these boys going up to the ward to find the demons they had spoken to, and followed them until they were taken aside. Alec and I took them out, and they scattered like vampires in the sun. Nice little trick." She patted the boy on the shoulder, and he flinched.

Clary

As we waited for Alec to come back, I found out about Valentine Morgenstern. Jace told me that there was a time when Downworlders and Nephilim (the official term for the children of the angels) were constantly at war with one another. Valentine had always been against them, it seemed, and looked for a way to eliminate them. Every so often there was a great council in which Downworlders and Nephilim met. At one such council the decision was made to bring the two together in peace.  
Valentine disagreed. He and a small group of Shadowhunters who were also against the idea attacked the council. Almost everyone there died - including the Downworlders. It was unclear to me how they actually managed to sign the treaty anyway, after that battle, but sign it they did and the Downworlders and Nephilim now lived in uneasy allegiance.  
"Basically, he was an asshole, and died," said Jace.  
"How did he die?"  
"House fire."  
There was a loud clamour of voices, and shouts of "let me go! I didn't do anything!" Alec kicked open the door of the gym, saying, "the rune isn't _hurting_ you, now is it?" He was herding through a band of six teenagers.  
Jace stood up. "Alec, what did you draw on them?"  
"Simple binding rune. They can't run off."  
"Nice."  
"OK," said Isabelle, getting up from the pile of sleeping bags she had heaped together. "Time for some explaining."  
"We won't say anything," said the oldest of the group. He looked only about fourteen.  
"Truth rune?" I said quietly to Jace.  
"There's no such thing," he said back.  
I blinked. "Yes, there is."  
He looked at me. "You're kidding."  
"Isabelle, give me the stele," I called, forgetting the one in my pocket. She threw it at me, and I caught it. _Nice_, I told myself. "Jace, your arm?"  
"Jesus, Clary, choose another guinea pig."  
"No. Your arm."  
He rolled his eyes and held out his forearm. On the inside of his elbow, I slowly, carefully traced a rune I could have sworn I had seen before. After all, I had it pictured perfectly in the front of my mind.  
"All right," I said when I was finished. "How old are you?"  
"Seventeen years, six months, and four days." He looked shocked.  
"Where were you born?"  
"Wayland Manor, Idris."  
I rattled off several other questions, ones I knew he wouldn't answer under other circumstances. He grinned widely when the interview was over. "That," he said, "is impressive. Where did you think of that?"  
"I don't know, I read it somewhere in the Grey Book, I think."  
"No, I've got that thing memorised, this rune isn't in there. In fact, I've never seen this rune before in my life."  
"Oh. Er, OK."  
"Clary, draw it on the kids, would you?" Isabelle said.  
"Hey, wait, that's not right," said one of them. "That's illegal!"  
"Not really - we're doing this for the good of the Nephilim."  
He grumbled under his breath as I Marked him. I tried to smile, to apologise, even, but all the teenagers refused to meet my eye.  
"Tell me what happened," said Alec.  
One of the girls piped up. "We'd been sent to take out a pocket of demons near the city a few days ago, at the edge of the ward. Precisely, south-south-east of here, walking at a brisk pace for half an hour. Each of us were armed with one long dagger. We reached a copse at the end of the grounds, and there we stepped over the boundaries, and out of the ward. We weren't meant to but we did it anyway because we thought we could. There were seven of us, and twelve demons. Four Raveners, and eight Eidolon. We had killed the Raveners and three of the Eidolon, and had them all cornered. They started to change faces, and become our parents and friends. It was scary." She shuddered. "We were about to kill them when they told us they knew where Valentine was."  
A boy picked up from there, quoting exactly: "'We will take you two him, and make you strong. We will give you the abilities of even the strongest Shadowhunters.' Of course, we knew exactly what Valentine had done and so we refused. Instead the demons said, 'then we can work together. We will bring him down.' So we let one of them go, killed the others, and then came back. When we got sent out again, we went to the front of the wards, right on the ocean, and before we could get talking, these two id-"  
"Don't go saying anything unsavoury, now, won't you?" Isabelle pouted.  
The boy caught himself, and said, "these two Shadowhunters intercepted us. They got hold of Jamie, and the girl took him back, and then the boy came after the rest of us."  
"Came after us, more like hunted us down," muttered a girl.  
Sebastian had been silent all this time. He looked worried. Before I could go over to him, I remembered that I was angry, and sat still.  
"What are we going to do with them?" said Alec.  
Jace stood up. "First, we're going to disarm them, and Clary's going to retrace the Truth rune. Then we'll get Hodge."

**That be all, folks! Review? Quick reminder to go and look at that poem, please :) it would be nice. /s/10008424/1/He-saw-her  
Cheers!**


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